


Starfire

by VictorVictoria32



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But they figure things out, F/M, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magical Tattoos, Minor Violence, Near Death Experiences, OCs - Freeform, Protective OFC, Protective Pitch Black (Guardians of Childhood), Referenced Child Neglect, References to Depression, Self-Worth Issues, Soul Bond, The Guardians are Confused for a while, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 152,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorVictoria32/pseuds/VictorVictoria32
Summary: Faking his own defeat had been a humiliating thing to do, but it had worked. The Guardians had lapped it up, too smug and too stupid to know an act when they saw one. The trouble was, he'd had a bit of help pulling it off, and now the secret the two of them had been so carefully guarding was on the verge of being completely undone. That Manny just couldn't mind his own business...
Relationships: Pitch Black/OFC
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue: Façade

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Rise of the Guardians in any way, I just have fun with the characters. It should be noted that I've not actually read any of the books.
> 
> Cross-posted from FanFiction where I go by VictorVictoria. I'm in the process of moving my stories over.
> 
> Not beta read.
> 
> Enjoy.

It had been an utterly humiliating thing to do, but he’d been left with no other recourse.

Everything had gone so smoothly at first, then all of a sudden it had been one setback right after another until his entire plan was in tatters. Those wretched Guardians and their collection of brats had devastated the Nightmare hoard he had so painstakingly created, leaving him with just a handful of scattered mares. The unexpected return of Sandman hadn’t helped his situation, either. And then, _then_ , those damned little children had _forgotten_ him.

He still couldn’t understand that particular part of it at all. How could he just slip out of their minds like that, after he’d spent so many nights meticulously tormenting them, building up their fear and their dread until even their daylight hours were filled with terrified thoughts of the dark dreams he’d created? 

Rendered next to powerless by the brats’ surge of fun and joy and wonder, he’d made a break for his lair. They’d never come down into the dark after him, of that much at least he was absolutely certain. Only Jack Frost had the guts to do such a reckless thing, and that was purely because Pitch had lured him there with those teeth; even the naïve Frost wasn’t stupid enough to venture into the depths more than once. But only yards from a successful escape he’d run straight into North, who’d stood by and watched with a smirk plastered onto his fat face as Tooth Fairy got her revenge for her stupid little fairies. That particular moment was the lowest Pitch had ever felt, but even that was just the beginning of his humiliation. In order to get away from them, in order to reach the safety of his dark home beneath the earth, he’d been forced to endure something much, much worse.

But it had worked.

As much as he hated to admit it, resorting to something so disgraceful was probably the only reason why he’d made it out of there relatively unscathed. Those Guardians never would have expected something like that from _him,_ which was precisely why they had believed such a sorry performance. Even that know-it-all Man in the Moon hadn’t so much as flickered at the display, meaning he’d swallowed the lie just as easily as his precious puppets had. Not one of them suspected that it had all been an act—that was how brilliantly he had put it on for them. The screaming, the flailing…he’d even thrown in a despondent “nooooo” just to make sure they bought it. And bought it they had. They’d all but lapped up his so-called defeat, too busy patting themselves on the back and relishing his false cries to recognize the sheer ridiculousness of it all. He’d even told them, hadn’t he? He’d told them right to their faces that they couldn’t get rid of him. And, really, did they _honestly_ believe that he’d be afraid of his own Nightmares? He’d created the blasted things, why ever would he be afraid of them? Why would he be afraid of _anything_? He was Pitch Black, he was fear personified. They were truly and utterly dense if they could not understand that much.

Well...whatever. It had worked to his advantage in the end. He’d played the part well, and they’d believed it, and now he’d be left alone.

“That’s enough now,” he said sternly, and the swirling vortex of nightmare sand dutifully carried him to the floor. The sand dispersed into nearly a dozen separate tendrils, which quickly reshaped into fully-formed Nightmares. They snorted and pawed at the ground, tossing their heads angrily as if discussing the recent events amongst themselves. Pitch pat one on the head without really looking at it before making his way over to his throne. He sat down heavily, heaving a weary sigh.

_What a waste of time._

All that work, all that effort…all for nothing.

_I should’ve stuck with the original plan…_

The Nightmares suddenly reared their heads, alert to another’s presence in the lair. A figure emerged from the shadows and approached the Nightmare King, and Pitch could not sense any fear emanating from that person at all. The gathered mares parted without command, allowing the figure passage without so much as a snap or a snort. In fact, many of them dipped their heads respectfully, almost submissively, as the individual passed them by. The leader of the mares, Onyx, was the only one that dared touch the newcomer, brushing her muzzle against their elbow. And the mare was touched back, a hand running absently along the dark sand of the creature’s mane as the figure passed her by.

Pitch was staring up at the vaulted ceiling and seemed to pay the figure no heed, but he didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“I suppose I must thank you,” he said, his voice echoing hollowly in the massive room. “Very smart, sending those mares.”

“Who do you think I am?” the figure replied with a bit of a laugh. “Really, it only worked because they are all so stupid.”

She was at the foot of the dais now, and ascended the twin steps without hesitation. Had anyone else approached the Nightmare King so shamelessly, he could have made swift work of reminding them of their place. But not this one. She was the only one in the entire world who could ever be so familiar with Pitch and get away with it.

Leaning her staff against the arm of the throne, she settled onto his lap, sitting sideways so she could see his face. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Pitch staring up at the ceiling while she stared at him. Then he sighed again. 

“I overdid it.”

“Clearly.”

“I couldn’t help it.” He turned his attention to her face, his golden eyes staring deep into her green ones. “Being filled with that much power…being _remembered_ after so long…it was just so exhilarating! And when those wretched Guardians got involved I just couldn’t help but toy with them.”

He extended a hand and curved his arm around her back, palm settling familiarly on her hip. “I should’ve stuck with the original plan,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“You should’ve,” she agreed, but then her mouth pulled into a sneer. “That Moon-man just couldn’t mind his own damn business. Calling for his minions when you’d only _just_ begun to tamper with the children’s dreams…talk about premature.”

She suddenly fixed him with an accusatory look. “Goading him wasn’t the brightest idea you’ve ever had.”

He groaned. “You know about that?”

“Of course.”

She tossed her head to get rid of a wayward lock of hair, the movement upsetting the long, thick tresses that cascaded down her back. The soft strands brushed over the arm he had wrapped around her, causing familiar heat to curl low in his belly. He wanted to touch that hair some more, and he did, reaching up to comb his fingers through the mass of curls. She smelled good, like forest and earth and warm sunlight.

_Perfect..._

“I also know about your little rendezvous with Jack Frost out in the Antarctic.”

She paused, clearly waiting for an answer, but he was fixated on her hair and didn’t say anything. So she continued, pushing the point.

“What were you thinking, playing with the new favorite like that?”

“I…” He stopped suddenly, not entirely sure how to express himself adequately. There had just been so _much_ running through his head at the time: the children and his rising power; the new Nightmares and the involvement of the Guardians; the unexpected change in plans.... _That_ particular point had been unintentional. He honestly hadn’t meant to veer so far from their original strategy, but he’d become so caught-up in the rush of power and the game of wits and manipulation that he’d found himself in with the Man in the Moon’s gaggle of pests that everything had gotten completely out of control before he’d even realized it. He knew he should’ve known better, but after centuries of moping around in the darkness picking at the meager scraps of children’s fear he’d been unable to pass up such a perfect opportunity to cut loose and express himself as openly and freely as possible.

In short, he’d become so enthralled by the sudden rush of power and the excitement of being remembered after so long that he’d completely lost track of what he was actually supposed to be doing.

As for Jack Frost…. Learning about the spirit’s involvement with the Guardians had been a bit of a surprise, but watching the young man and listening to his wants and complaints had touched something in Pitch. He knew what it was like to be invisible, after all, so he could empathize with Jack a little. That particular point hadn’t been a lie, but it hardly meant much when nearly everything else Pitch had told the frost spirit while trying to corrupt him had been either twisted half-truths or outright deception. It had been innocent fun at first, teasing and tormenting the ignorant lad, but before he knew it he’d been caught up in that little game, too. He’d found himself doing and saying more and more outrageous things just to get a rise out of Frost, all in the hopes that he could successfully corrupt the spirit and finally beat the Man in the Moon at one of his own schemes.

But most of all, he’d been driven by the belief that if anyone else could see the Man in the Moon and his minions for exactly what they were—manipulative, selfish and self-serving—it was Jack Frost.

And yet the boy had ultimately turned away from reality and sided with the Guardians, leaving Pitch with the ashes of yet another failure.

He let out a short breath and allowed his arm fall back onto the throne’s carved wooden armrest. “I thought he would understand.”

Her gaze softened. She knew. He didn’t have to say anything more than those five simple words and she completely understood.

And that was what he loved about her.

“He might’ve,” she grumbled, slipping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his, “except they got their claws into him first.” She scowled. “To think he’d use that boy like that, giving him the silent treatment just to make him so desperate for answers that he’d do almost anything. And along _you_ came, presenting him with the perfect opportunity to tempt Frost and be rid of you all at once.”

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “You needn’t be so angry about it. I knew precisely what my old friend was up to, and I willingly took part in his little game because he was being such a good sport about playing along with mine. I knew it would be terribly amusing, especially if I did my part well enough to actually succeed in corrupting the boy.”

“But you didn’t. You just pushed him straight into their waiting arms.”

He shrugged away the indignation she felt on his behalf. “I started the whole affair, and they finished it. There will always be a next time.” He smirked. “And next time you can help me.”

“Next time stick with the original plan, and maybe I will.”

“Ah,” he said silkily as he pulled her close, “but if you’re by my side you can keep an eye on me, can’t you?”

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, but he could feel her smile against the skin of his neck. She put her arms around him to hug him back, and they stayed that way for a long time, simply holding each other in contented silence.

With her warm body enveloped in his tight embrace, the dark fabric of Pitch’s sleeves was pulled back from his wrists, revealing the very edge of a white-gold pattern. It gleamed brightly in the murky darkness, contrasting sharply with the gray of his skin.


	2. Summons

For the past few days the Guardians had all been staying at the Pole. While overrun with annoying elves and grumbling yetis and the incessant banging and rattling of toy-making, North’s place was by far the most fitting to host the four of them as it could meet their individual needs. It was open enough for Tooth and Sandy to work without bothering anyone, cold enough for Jack to stay comfortable, and spacious enough for Bunny to find a quiet space for himself whenever he wanted to steer clear of everyone. Particularly Jack. While he’d certainly warmed up to the newest Guardian a great deal since their defeat of the Nightmare King, the Pooka still didn’t think too highly of the frost spirit’s idea of a good time.

 _Oh, well, his loss,_ Jack thought happily.

He was busy skating around and around the workshop on an ever-extending sheet of frosty ice, roaring with laughter as a group of yetis slipped and skidded after him in a desperate attempt to put a stop to it. He wasn’t actually _harming_ anything, but they didn’t seem to trust him enough to know not to touch the toys they’d spent the last months painstakingly building. Bad enough the stupid, hapless elves always got in their way; the last thing they needed or wanted was a mischief-making frost spirit making things worse, accidentally or otherwise! Jack couldn’t help but find their bumbling attempts to catch him utterly hilarious. They were always so serious, those yetis, that he just couldn’t help but mess with them.

He chuckled to himself. _Like Bunny._

Jack was just casting another amused look over his shoulder when he suddenly plowed into something very hard and quite immobile. Turned out to be North, who was standing squarely in Jack’s way with his hands on his hips.

“Jack,” he rumbled in his deep voice, shaking his head, “let’s not get too careless, hmmm?” He waggled a finger down at him. “Too much work to be done now that Easter’s over. Don’t need best workers distracted.”

“Okay, okay,” Jack grumbled, getting to his feet. As he picked up his staff, he got the satisfaction of one last snicker as he saw the yetis collide into each other and collapse onto the floor in a panting heap of fur. Although he didn’t have a clue what they were saying, he could tell by the tone of their nonsensical grumbles that they were none-too pleased with him.

“Now,” North said loudly, clapping his massive hands together excitedly. “Since everyone leaves tomorrow, I thought we’d hold celebration!”

“Really?” Jack groaned. “Didn’t we just have one?”

The Guardian of Wonder looked confused for a moment then burst into a fit of raucous laughter. “Celebration?! No! That was ceremony for you becoming Guardian! _This_ is celebration! To say goodbye to all our friends…until next time,” he added with a wink.

“Ah.”

Just then Tooth Fairy fluttered over, her wings humming incessantly as she jabbered away at her gathered fairies. Jack could get truly exhausted just from trying to keep up with her endless string of directions, so he didn’t bother. Instead he waited patiently with North until she was through and flitted over to join them.

“Oh, hi,” she said breathlessly, hovering between them. “Heard about the celebration. I’m so excited!”

“Celebration?” That was Bunny, who just appeared at Jack’s elbow without warning, making the frost spirit jump. “What celebration?”

“A going-away party!” Tooth exclaimed as the two fairies that always seemed to stick close to her side chittered excitedly.

“What? Why? Didn’t we just have a party?”

“That’s what I said,” Jack informed him before North interrupted.

“Oh, no, that was not party! This is to say ‘Thank you for helping, everyone, and thank you for staying.’”

Bunny still looked a bit perplexed by the whole thing, but Jack grinned.

“Just go with it,” he said cheerfully, clapping a hand to the Pooka’s shoulder. “What’s the harm in a bit of fun?”

Bunny chuckled dryly. “ _Your_ idea of fun isn’t always wholesome, mate. Or have you forgotten who holds the record on the Naughty List?”

Jack opened his mouth to retort when Sandman burst into the hallway.

“Sandy!” North boomed, arms outstretched in welcome. “We were just talking about party!”

But Sandman didn’t seem interested. He didn’t even appear to hear the loud-mouthed Russian. He flew over to them and golden symbols started appearing above his head at a dizzying pace.

“Woah, woah, there, mate,” Bunny said, raising his paws to stop the spirit’s silent outburst. “Slow down. What’s this about?”

Rolling his eyes, Sandy conjured a very clear moon symbol above his head before floating away towards the main hall, his pudgy face set into a scowl.

“Ah, Manny!” North exclaimed merrily. He strode after Sandman, seemingly unperturbed by the summons.

Bunny, however, wasn’t so calm.

“Already?” he murmured to Tooth, who shrugged her shoulders. Jack noted that she looked rather worried.

The trio followed after North and Sandy, until the five of them were gathered near the globe.

“Man in Moon,” North proclaimed, raising his hands to the glistening moon above their heads. “Calling us again so soon?”

 _He’s far too relaxed about this,_ Jack thought. He knew from personal experience that the Man in the Moon wasn’t one for conversation, and that it could often be decades or, in his case at least, hundreds of years before he decided to pay anyone on earth any real mind. So for him to call upon the Guardians only days after their defeat of Pitch was extremely unusual.

“Can’t be Pitch again, can it?” Bunny muttered, almost to himself.

Jack scoffed at the thought. “I doubt it. We took good care of him, remember?”

“ _Course_ I remember!” Bunny hissed. “Just…well…you never know, right?”

“Quiet!” Tooth whispered loudly. “He’s saying something!”

Indeed, a shimmering beam of silver moonlight had descended through the open port in the roof and was now easing its way across the room. Jack found himself holding his breath, having never witnessed such an event before. The five stood back and watched, wide-eyed, as the moonbeam finally came to a stop on a decorated patch of floor, at the center of which was a glistening letter G.

“Again?!” Bunny exclaimed loudly, unable to contain himself.

Sandy and Tooth seemed to share his sentiment. Both were babbling away, one to her fairies and the other in a steady stream of sand symbols that no one was paying any attention to, least of all Jack. The frost spirit stared at the floor for a long moment then turned his gaze up to the moon, his stomach tight. Although he knew he probably shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but feel hurt and even a bit betrayed at the Man in the Moon’s revelation. How come he was picking a new Guardian already? Jack had only been one himself for a few short days. Did the guy think Jack just wasn’t capable? Why’d he pick him in the first place if he didn’t think he was suitable for the job?

Jack swallowed hard and turned away, clutching his staff tightly. He’d only just found his center, his purpose, the meaning behind his continued existence. But now that newfound understanding and welcomed peace was being hopelessly shaken by the fact that Manny didn’t seem to trust him nearly as much as his new friends did.

_I just don’t understand!_

He felt a warm hand come to rest on his shoulder, pulling him out of his gloomy thoughts. Glancing up, Jack saw that it was Tooth. She smiled reassuringly down at him, and Jack’s heart calmed almost instantly. He was being stupid. None of the others had seemed all that bothered when _he’d_ joined their group. Well, none of them except Bunny, but that had been an issue of trust rather than a result of the Pooka feeling slighted. If the Man in the Moon was choosing another Guardian it was because they _all_ needed help, and not because any one of them was somehow inferior to the others.

 _I really need to stop feeling so down all the time,_ Jack scolded himself. _I’ve found my center, now I have to hold confidence in that fact._

Feeling a whole lot better than he had moments ago, he returned Tooth’s smile with a genuine one of his own. Looking visibly relieved, she fluttered away to give him a bit of space. The others had finally quieted down, and the Man in the Moon seemed ready to give them their answer.

The floor opened up, giving way to a rising crystal. From the crystal came a shimmering blue light, which shifted and swirled until it finally took on the shape of a woman.

Jack stared at the image, confused. But his question, “Who’s that?” was cut short by a loud exclamation from Bunny.

“Oh, no!” the Pooka declared, his eyes absolutely enormous. “No-no-no-no-no! _Anyone_ but her!”

The little fairies were chittering away in their strange language, looking incredibly panicked. Their reaction only confused Jack even more. Tooth was trying to reassure them, but her attempt was hardly comforting given the uncertain expression on her face. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything.

“I mean, it’s not like he’d choose just anybody, right?” she was saying, the words falling off her tongue in rapid succession. “He’s the Man in the Moon, he knows better than anyone. Surely he has good reason! This is for the children, after all.”

“The _children_?” Bunny asked incredulously. “She _hates_ children!”

“Who is that?” Jack asked again, but still nobody was listening. North was staring at the image as if struck dumb, which was an incredibly rare thing for the boisterous Russian. Tooth and Bunny were still arguing while the little fairies flew about their heads and twittered noisily. Even Sandy was having a difficult time being coherent. Symbols were flying over his head so quickly that they didn’t even have time to shape properly, creating a nonsensical swirl of golden sand. Judging from the look on his pudgy face, Jack was certain that if the little man had possessed an actual voice he’d be spluttering incoherently.

Feeling increasingly frustrated, Jack repeated in a voice so loud it was almost a shout, “ _Who_ is _that_?!”

“ _That_ ,” Bunny said just as loudly, gesturing wildly at the crystal image, “is Lilliana Starfire!”

“Who?”

The Pooka looked completely flabbergasted. “What do you mean, _who_?! It’s Starfire!”

Good and angry now, Jack opened his mouth to tell the Guardian of Hope to _stop_ repeating himself and to just _explain,_ but North seemed to have finally regained control of his voice.

“Starfire,” he said simply, as if that name alone was enough of an explanation. But then he caught the look on Jack’s face and quickly elaborated with, “Sun Woman’s daughter.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Jack said, taking a literal step back as he tried to process what the big man had just said. “Sun Woman?”

“The woman in the sun,” Tooth explained quickly, darting over to hover near Jack. “You know, Man in the Moon, Woman in the Sun.”

He’d never heard of such a thing before, had never picked up on so much as a whisper about there being a Woman in the Sun. But after the events of the past few days, Jack figured he really shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore. Not only did incredibly odd things keep happening to and around him, but it was becoming increasingly clear to the frost spirit that there were many, many things about the world that he was wholly ignorant of.

So instead of lingering on the fact that he’d existed for three hundred years without once hearing about the Sun Woman, he focused his energy on trying to figure out exactly why his friends were so against having this Woman’s daughter be a Guardian.

“So they’re like…what, a couple?” he asked hesitantly, meaning the Sun Woman and Mann

For some reason, that made North laugh. “Oh, no, no, Jack.” The big man waved his hand through the air as if dismissing the frost spirit’s notions about who the Sun Woman was. “Manny and Sun Woman…ehhh…don’t get along."

“Not to mention,” Bunny cut in before Jack could speak, “Starfire _hates_ Manny and anyone associated with him. That means _us_.”

“I don’t get it,” Jack said, more confused than ever.

“Listen.” Bunny spun on his heel to face Jack. “Starfire is one of the oldest spirits out there, mate, older than any of us.” He gestured at himself and the other three guardians.

“So how come I’ve never heard of her?” Jack asked before he could stop himself.

“Well, you know, she isn’t exactly…sociable,” Tooth said with a strained smile.

“She keeps to herself,” Bunny elaborated. “Sticks mostly to the forests and the wilds.” He threw his paws into the air. “ _Why_ Manny chose her, of _all_ people, I wouldn’t know!”

“So…” Jack rubbed his forehead, trying hard to understand. “So what kind of spirit is she?” He just couldn’t imagine the sun having a child, let alone what sort of spirit that child would be.

“Spirit of life,” North told him. The big man was smiling broadly, which seemed rather inappropriate given the others’ misgivings. “Flora, to be precise.”

“Trees, flowers, grass…anything with roots in the ground and leaves in the sky,” Bunny quickly explained. He was pacing back and forth, looking unspeakably stressed. “Why, why, _why_ did it have to be her? I’d rather have a hundred Jack Frosts on my hands than to have to deal with the likes of her.”

“Thanks,” Jack said sarcastically.

“So what do we do?” Tooth asked North. Her little fairies had finally calmed down, though it didn’t escape Jack’s notice that they still looked rather nervous.

“Well, we find her,” the big man replied simply. That made Bunny laugh.

“Yeah? Find her how? She ain’t exactly known for leaving a trail, mate. And even if we _do_ find her, how’re we gonna get her here when she obviously doesn’t _want_ to be here?”

“Same as last time.” The Russian grinned at Jack. “With yetis.”

As happy as he was to know that he wasn’t going to be the only recruit to ever be shoved into a giant sack, Jack couldn’t help but worry that North’s plan wasn’t going to go as smoothly this time as it had the last. Whoever this Lilliana Starfire was, she didn’t sound like the sort to just shrug off a kidnapping like the easygoing frost spirit had.

* * *

It was spring in the northern hemisphere, and the natural world was very much alive. Deep in the forests of Canada’s Yukon Territory, Lilliana Starfire felt at peace. She was hundreds of miles from the nearest human and even greater distance from the closest child, and she much preferred it that way. Even other spirits rarely ventured here, which was perfectly fine with her. Their avoidance wasn’t due to any danger the forest posed, of course; the only harm that could come to spirits was from other spirits or from being forgotten. Rather, spirits avoided this type of place because of its remote location. Since many of them required human belief to survive, spirits tended to settle down near highly populated areas, very similar to carnivores setting up territories in regions populated with high numbers of prey animals. Easy to hunt, easy to feed, easy to survive.

_Pathetic._

They were incredibly lazy, those other spirits. They had no idea what it truly felt like to have to slave away for the faintest morsels of belief, to have to struggle and scrape for even the slightest power in order to maintain existence in the world. Spirits like fat man North and that horrid Easter Bunny practically had the humans groveling at their feet. They needn’t do anything besides _exist_ and those stupid little children continued to believe. Oh, they fed that belief, of course, throwing gifts at those brats like throwing slobbering dogs a bone, just to keep their interest peaked. Humans were rather simple creatures, after all; it didn’t take much to make them stop believing, and not a whole lot to make them start again, either, provided you were prepared to stoop so low as to resort to pitching material goods at them. And that’s really all it took for those pathetic spirits like North and Bunny and even Tooth Fairy to keep their existence real—standing around tossing their precious children petty morsels to make them fall in line.

 _If they were willing to do any_ real _work, they’d actually understand just how hard it is for the rest of us._

She had it relatively easy, in a sense, being the spirit of flora. She didn’t have to deal with children in order to do her duties. Other spirits weren’t so lucky, and it really hurt her to see them forced to swallow their pride in order to fulfill their obligations.

A peculiar sound caught her attention, and she stepped carefully between the conifer trees to find the source. The ground was prickly beneath her feet, littered as it was with fallen needles and branches and other manners of debris that were in various stages of decay. She didn’t mind it at all. She loved feeling the earth against her skin, and her soles were tough from walking countless miles in bare feet. Without shoes she could feel the raw power of the world, could relish in the way the land’s indomitable, indiscriminate strength pressed right against her body. The ground was hardly inanimate, stuffed to bursting as it was with roots and shoots and dormant seeds, all beckoning to her, whispering to her in voices great and small, promising her aid whenever she had need. The natural world, uncorrupted by human touch, was strength and life and majesty incarnate, and she cherished every second she could be close to it like this. Absolutely nothing could compare.

_Too bad it is getting harder and harder to find quiet places like this, thanks to those selfish, self-centered human beings._

The noise turned out to be the frustrated snarls of female bobcat. She was tangled in the thick underbrush, thanks in part to her enormous pregnant belly. Panting and wide-eyed, she screamed a warning when Lilliana approached, baring her sharp teeth. The spirit held up her palm in a gesture of peace and slowly sank into a squat, gripping her staff for support. Normally she couldn’t be bothered with fauna as it simply wasn’t her business, but she decided to make an exception this time since her flora was clearly to blame for the feline’s present predicament.

 _Besides,_ she thought, eyeing the cat’s large belly, _it would be a waste to lose those kittens_.

She shifted her staff so that the base slid barely an inch across the forest floor. She felt her power rise in response, beckoning tiny green sprouts from the ground surrounding the bobcat. As they grew the little tendrils coiled and reached, wrapping around and around the offensive underbrush. Bound by the flora spirit’s will, the vines gently tugged and twisted as they carefully untangled the wooden bonds holding the animal captive. The cat lay there, panting and exhausted, staring fixedly at Lilliana with distrust burning in her golden eyes. The spirit didn’t meet the animal’s gaze as she was too focused on her work.

After a few moments the first branch gave way with a definite _snap_ , and the tangled mass loosened visibly. The female cat froze for a single breath of time, confused. Then she appeared to realize what had happened and snarled with determination. Her energy renewed by the prospect of freedom, the mother cat flailed against the brush, snarling and snapping in frustration until she finally pulled free. She bolted into the forest without a backward glance, vanishing into the darkness of the surrounding trees.

 _Good luck,_ Lilliana thought dryly. That hasty retreat was the precise reason she didn’t make a habit of helping fauna. They were so very ungrateful.

Her task complete, the spirit stood and brushed a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes. Glancing up at the distant sky, she saw that it was growing dark. That busybody would be out soon.

_Better be getting back._

Suddenly, she felt a looming presence behind her and a massive hand reached over her head to snatch at her staff. With an angry cry she tried to swing towards the attacker, intending to use the momentum to free the staff, but another pair of oversized hands grabbed her roughly about the waist and pulled her down at the same time her staff was yanked upward. The sheer force and abruptness of the attack left her with no time to recover, and her assailants succeeded in parting her from the weapon.

_No!_

As soon as she saw the hulking beasts responsible for her plight, she snarled furiously.

“North!” she shrieked, spit flying from her mouth. Those babbling monsters then tossed her unceremoniously into a large red sack, pulling the drawstring tight before she could scramble out again.

 _"North_!”

She heard a strange tinkling near her ear, followed almost immediately by the telltale whoosh of a portal opening.

 _“Damn you North!_ ” she screamed as she was slung over the shoulder of one of the fat man’s minions and forced through the shimmering portal.


	3. Confrontations

There was an intense anxiousness burrowed in Jack’s stomach that wouldn’t go away.

It had been a lot easier to locate Starfire than Bunny and the others had led him to believe, just a few days scouting the uninhabited regions of Earth before one of Tooth’s fairies finally spotted her. After that North sent a pair of yetis to fetch her, and now the five Guardians were assembled at the base of North’s globe, awaiting the new recruit.

Everything seemed to be going far too smoothly for it to possibly end well.

_I really don’t like this…_

Jack glanced around at the others. Tooth was busy directing her fairies, but there was a distinct grimness to her expression that was rather unlike her. Sandy was dozing, as expected, and Bunnymund was pacing restlessly. The frost spirit couldn’t help but notice that the Pooka’s paws kept inching for his boomerangs as if sorely tempted to take them for added precaution.

North, on the other hand, was grinning broadly. His massive hands rested on his hips as he patiently awaited the yetis’ return. Out of all the Guardians he seemed to be the only one who was genuinely pleased about the whole affair, which Jack simply couldn’t understand. 

_How can he be so jolly when everyone else has pretty much set their mind to the fact that there’s gonna be trouble?_

When the portal finally opened in a swirl of color and whooshing wind, all five of them jerked to attention. Startled out of sleep, Sandman floated up to Tooth’s side as she quickly dismissed the rest of her fairies. Jack could tell she didn’t want them anywhere near Starfire, and the little beings clearly didn’t want to be near the flora spirit, either. They flitted away only too gratefully once Tooth bid them leave.

As soon as the pair of yetis appeared, Jack’s attention was drawn to the writhing red sack one of them had slung over his shoulder. Normally he’d find it terribly amusing to witness such an event from outside the bag rather than inside of it, but he just couldn’t find anything remotely funny about the present situation. The victim inside North’s sack was clearly enraged, thrashing and kicking so fiercely that the bag was on the verge of tearing. Jack winced at the steady stream of furious words emanating from the woman’s mouth, which was peppered with more than a few curses.

“I _swear_ , fat man, I’m going burn your damn shop to the ground!” she shrieked as the yeti holding the sack set her down with far more care than they had Jack when he had been in the same situation. The other yeti was keeping a safe distance between itself and the writhing sack, cradling a staff in its massive paws as if it wanted nothing more than to drop the thing and run for it.

_I’ve never seen them scared of anything before,_ Jack noted with growing dread. He wondered if it was her anger that intimidated them or if what they feared was actually retribution at the hands of a spirit who was as powerful as Bunny and the others made her out to be.

_Wait…she wouldn’t_ hurt _them, right? They were only doing what they were told. Even I didn’t get mad at them when they did the exact same thing to me...irritated, sure, but not mad._

It didn’t take long for him to get his answer.

Once the drawstring was pulled loose, Starfire emerged with flailing arms, flushed and furious. She snatched her staff from the second yeti as the hulking thing gingerly held it out for her to take. As soon as the weapon changed hands, Jack felt the imminent surge of power and the yetis scattered. Undeterred by their hasty retreat, Starfire gripped the staff in both hands and swung the butt around, directing her power at the first yeti. The massive creature garbled in shock and pain as a long thick vine emerged from nothing and whipped it hard on the back of the head. It fell to the floor with a dull thud, scrambled to its feet and yelped again as the vine wrapped tight around its neck and pulled taut, yanking it back down again.

The second yeti made it a bit further before Starfire turned her attention to it. With blazing eyes she swung her staff around to redirect the vine, catching the fleeing beast around the ankles and successfully tripping it. Like its partner the yeti dropped to the floor, and it bellowed in pain as the vine struck it repeatedly across the head and shoulders. Whip-like cracks echoed in the workshop along with the yetis’ howls.

“Lilly!” North boomed. “Welcome to the Pole!”

Jack couldn’t believe the man sounded so cheerful when his workers were being unreasonably punished, but his incredulous glance in the big man’s direction revealed that the Russian’s eyes were hard. Messing around with the useless elves was one thing, but picking on his dedicated, hardworking yetis was clearly intolerable.

_So why doesn’t he_ do _something?!_

Then he understood North’s intention as the flora spirit’s head snapped around.

“Do _not_ call me that!” she commanded harshly.

“Lilliana,” North corrected quickly, his smile still fixed firmly on his face. “Welcome, welcome!”

With her attention successfully drawn away from the yetis, they took the opportunity to flee, whimpering and clutching their abused flesh. The flora spirit let them go, her focus now set squarely upon the gathered Guardians.

“Save your words, fat man,” Starfire snapped. With a practiced twirl of her staff, the vine vanished. Then she slammed the butt of the weapon down onto the floor. The resulting bang echoed so loudly in the room that Bunny’s sensitive ears twitched and his furry face pinched with pain. “You have no right to manhandle me!”

“Ah, well, all in the past,” the big man said, waving his hands dismissively through the air. Jack wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm or distract the raging spirit, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of either.

“Do not act as if I am stupid enough to just forgive and forget a kidnapping, North,” Starfire snarled. “I am no frost spirit!”

“Hey!” Jack cried indignantly.

“We need to talk,” North said with a shrug. He was still trying hard to keep that cheerful smile on his face. “But you would not come. So…we collect you.”

“I have no reason to speak with you,” Starfire retorted. She cast contemptuous looks at the other Guardians. “You or your gaggle of so-called friends.”

“Hey, now,” Bunny growled, taking a step forward before Tooth dashed over to stop him. “Don’t go looking down on us, mate. We don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here!”

“Then why _am_ I here?”

It was unbelievable how the flora spirit could manage to look down on a being that was so much taller than her, but she was doing just that—staring down her nose at Bunny as if the Pooka was far, far beneath her. Jack, in turn, let his gaze rove up and down the newcomer, getting his first hard look at the Sun Woman’s daughter. She was quite tall, maybe a little taller than Jack, and stunningly beautiful. Her hair was long and thick and impossibly curly, red as flame with golden highlights to match. Her eyes were a deep green, like leaves, and her skin was the color of dark earth. She wore a thin white blouse with wide bell sleeves over a tight wrist-length undershirt that was the same color as her eyes. Her pants were also green, but it was such a deep color that in certain lights the cloth almost appeared brown. Then his gaze dropped to her feet and Jack couldn’t help but smile a little when he noticed that she was barefoot. _Seems we have a bit in common after all._ Her toes were dusted with fresh soil, and there was a large pine needle stuck to the hem of her pants. She stood straight-backed and proud, her chin set squarely and her eyes blazing with contempt.

She was both the most striking and the most intimidating spirit Jack had ever laid eyes on.

Having studied the woman closely, the frost spirit’s attention wandered to Starfire’s staff. _Something else we have in common._ It was as tall as the spirit wielding it and noticeably thicker than Jack’s, and if the dull thud it created when it struck the floor earlier was any indication then the wood used to make it was much denser than that which comprised Jack’s own staff. _I’d like to see Pitch snap that one in half,_ he couldn’t help but think dryly. The weapon was intricately carved, unlike Jack’s rather rugged design, with what appeared to be a vines-and-leaves pattern. The top of Starfire’s staff was also noticeably different from Jack’s, for his ended in a wide crook whereas the flora spirit’s appeared to be topped by a large three-pronged claw made of some kind of black stone. Stranger still, cradled within the curled, iridescent talons was an actual flame. Jack couldn’t even begin to fathom how the thing was kept alive without fuel, until he remembered that this spirit’s name was Starfire and that she was the daughter of the Sun.

_Must’ve been a gift from her mother,_ he decided _._ He stared for a long while, mesmerized by the flickering stark-white flame. He’d never seen fire hot enough to burn white, and he couldn’t help the trepidation that curled inside his stomach as he realized that he really, _really_ didn’t want to be at the receiving end of that heat.

Ever.

North’s booming voice snapped him out of his scrutiny.

“Why you think?” he asked in answer to Starfire’s pointed question. “To make you Guardian!”

The moment the words left his lips, the six of them were nearly deafened by raucous fanfare from elf-wielded horns. The celebratory noise resounded starkly in the awkward silence, though North seemed to be the only one who didn’t take notice. He was dancing in place along with the music, apparently trying to lift the mood.

It wasn’t working. Jack quickly shut the little nuisances up with a blast of ice. Frozen with the horns still to their lips, the elves tipped onto the floor with sharp _clinks_ and lay there like ridiculous little statues.

Starfire stared at the five Guardians in disbelief. Jack almost expected her to burst out laughing, but she didn’t. Instead, her face twisted into a sneer.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Is true!” North happily assured her, waving his arms about in his usual overly-animated manner. “Man-in-Moon decided!”

Bunny shifted next to Jack, grumbling darkly under his breath. The frost spirit saw that the Pooka’s face was still harshly set, as if he didn’t like the flora spirit any more than she liked any of them. Fluttering beside him, Tooth Fairy looked nervously between Bunny, Starfire and North, uncertain as to what to do. Sandy appeared almost nonchalant, as if he wasn’t bothered by Starfire’s reaction at all, but Jack noticed that the little man’s hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his sides as if prepared to spring into action at any moment.

“Perhaps you have forgotten, North,” Starfire said coolly, “but I simply don’t care what that meddlesome Moon-man has to say.”

Tooth gasped, hands flying to her mouth. Bunny growled, “Why I oughta—” but was stopped short of snagging his boomerangs by Sandman. Jack wasn’t completely sure why they were all so upset, but he could guess as to the reason. Having never heard of the Man in the Moon referred to as anything other than “old friend” or Manny before, he supposed the name Starfire had just assigned him was at best rather rude and at worst incredibly insulting.

“Still,” North proclaimed, purposefully ignoring the slight against his old friend, “Manny decided, and here you are. So! We make you Guardian!”

“Did you not hear me?!”

“Jack didn’t want to be a Guardian, either,” Tooth told her, bravely flying a bit closer to the angry spirit. “But here he is!”

“Yeah, it’s really not all that bad,” Jack put in, trying to be supportive of Tooth. But his words of encouragement almost seemed to make things worse.

“Oh, do not even think to compare me to the likes of you,” Starfire snapped at Jack. “You chose your way, and it was the way of stupidity.”

“Helping children is not stupid,” Jack snapped back. He was starting to get angry now. He clutched his staff so tightly his knuckles popped.

“You don’t help them, Jack Frost. And you certainly don’t ‘guard’ them, either. That they’ve managed to convince you otherwise shows just how pathetically ignorant you are.”

Pushed to the limits of his patience, Jack thrust his staff into the air. Ignoring Tooth’s cry of warning, he sent a blast of frigid air and ice across the room towards the flora spirit. Tooth Fairy managed to duck out of the way just in time, but Starfire looked almost bored by the display. With a simple flick of her staff, a wave of nearly unbearable heat flared to life. In an instant, the powerful ice attack had been transformed into a harmless puddle of water on North’s workshop floor.

“Do not ever compare yourself to me, boy,” Starfire said softly, menacingly. “Who do you think I am?!”

“You are Starfire,” North said loudly, “and new Guardian!”

“You wouldn’t have been chosen without reason,” Tooth pointed out reasonably.

Starfire’s eyes flicked over the fairy. “Oh, he has reason. He wants to put me somewhere he can keep an eye on me.”

“I highly doubt that,” Bunny grumbled, and Jack found he had to agree. He couldn’t imagine anyone, even the Man in the Moon, wanting to be responsible for this arrogant sharp-tongued spirit.

Starfire laughed. “That’s because you don’t know anything, rabbit.”

Jack frowned. Rabbit? The only person he’d ever known to call Bunny “rabbit” was…

He quickly discarded the thought. _Don’t be ridiculous, Jack,_ he scolded himself. _Pitch is gone. It’s probably just a coincidence. She called Manny “Moon-man”, after all, so is calling Bunny “rabbit” really that much of a stretch?_

Then he smiled wryly. _At least she didn’t call him “Kangaroo”._

Still…he just couldn’t shake the growing dread that was starting to settle over him again. Something about this whole situation just wasn’t right. He gripped his staff tighter, silently wishing that they could just resolve this problem quickly and be rid of Starfire.

* * *

She couldn’t believe it. She just _couldn’t_ believe it. A Guardian? _Really_? What kind of twisted joke was this?

Then aggravated disbelief gave way to reason, and realization quickly dawned on her. This couldn’t be a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect. That meddling Moon-man must have seen her in the woods that night and put two-and-two together. She’d known that stepping out in the open like that with a full moon directly above her head was taking a massive risk, but she’d hoped that the nocturnal spectator would either assume she was meddling in his precious Guardians’ affair just to toy with them and, by extension, get some much-desired revenge against the ever-aggravating Moon-man, or that he’d guess what was going on but mind his own business for fear of angering Starfire and her mother.

It was pretty clear now that she’d been wrong on both counts. And to think that _this_ was his reaction to finally learning the truth....

_The hell is wrong with you?!_ She thought furiously, casting a dark look up at the night sky. _You aren’t even my father, so what right do you have to dictate to me like this?! What right do you have to interfere in my decisions?!_

“I’ll only say this once more,” she told the assembled Guardians firmly. “I don’t want to be a Guardian, and there is no way you can force me.”

“Like we’d want to,” that damned rabbit grumbled. He was always so full of himself, that pesky Pooka. Starfire was sorely tempted to teach him a lesson on respect, but decided against it. She had to get out of here, and quickly, before things got out of hand.

“Well, then.” She spun on her heel, dismissing the lot of them with a swish of her red hair. “You have no right to stop me.”

She’d only made it a few steps across the room, however, when she caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Her jaw tightened.

_Pitch._

This was bad. If the wretched Guardians caught him here then they’d know immediately that their defeat of the Boogeyman had been a farce—that the Nightmare King had let them presume victory just to get away from them. They’d make it their mission to defeat Pitch for real this time, and that was the very last thing he needed to be dealing with right now. He’d gathered and expended so much energy trying to defeat those five pests the last time, only to have all of his efforts go to waste thanks to the interference of a few pathetic human children with names like “Jamie” and “Cupcake”. Such a dramatic swing of strength and power in a relatively short period of time was quite draining for a spirit, even one of Pitch’s caliber, and what he needed most right now was a period of uninterrupted rest. _Not_ to become involved in some messy affair like this. Teleporting to the Pole in such haste surely hadn’t helped his recuperation one bit, and if things were to devolve into a full-fledged battle (which they undoubtedly would if he revealed himself), then he’d be hard-pressed to escape the Guardians unscathed, especially when he’d want to take her with him. Teleporting himself was one thing, but transporting another spirit through the shadows over such great distance was an incredibly taxing feat. He could probably manage it if he had to, but she refused to let it get to that point. He may have rushed here to help her, but she was just as determined to look out for his well-being.

“I’m fine,” she announced in a clear voice.With her back turned to the Moon-man’s pests, they couldn’t see that her gaze was fixed on that shadow. Those words were for Pitch, to assure him that she was all right and to hopefully convince him to stay hidden and allow her to handle the situation herself.

He seemed to get the message, for there was nary a flicker from that shadow after that one brief flash of movement. Lilliana breathed an inward sigh of relief, thanking every shadow in the world that her love was far more intelligent than these idiotic Guardians.

Turning once more, she saw that said Guardians were looking rather perplexed by her seemingly out-of-the-blue statement. So she elaborated.

“I’m fine with how things are now, and I certainly don’t want to ruin that because your precious moon got it into his head that I’m better off here with you.”

It was clear to her that the Moon-man had stopped short of telling his minions the exact cause of his sudden summons; they wouldn’t be acting anywhere near this nonchalant about the whole affair if they’d known. And they were obviously far too stupid to realize the truth for themselves, but that only worked in Starfire’s favor. If she played this off correctly, she could get away from them, avoid becoming a Guardian, and return to the darkness with Pitch without their secret being revealed to anyone else.

_As grateful as I am to you for keeping your fat mouth shout,_ she thought of the Moon-man, _I find myself shocked at the true extent of your manipulative tendencies. Telling them I’d be a Guardian when really that’s the very last thing you want me to be…. Here I thought you’d jump at the opportunity to subjugate me and be rid of your old friend in one stroke, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? You just_ had _to toy with everyone just a little bit more._

The fat man was talking in his annoyingly loud voice. Lilliana had to wonder if he only acted as the supposed-leader of the group because he talked too much for anyone else to put in for the position.

“No need for complaints,” he was saying jovially. “We don’t want to rule you, just have you help children when needed.”

“I’ve already told you,” she said through gritted teeth, “you don’t _help_ children, you bribe them, and I want no part in that!”

The rabbit had a boomerang in hand and was gesturing at her with it in a manner that she supposed was intended to be threatening, but really it just looked ridiculous.

“You take that back now!” he commanded. “You take back what you said!”

“Or what?” she sneered. “You’ll poke me with that stick?” She backed up a few steps and turned away. “I’m done with this foolishness.” She headed straight for the door.

“Woah, now.”

Lilliana stopped short as Jack Frost suddenly dropped down in front of her. The frost spirit was holding tight to his staff, a clear indication that he didn’t trust her at all ( _Good._ ), but his expression wasn’t one of fear like the fairy’s, or aggravation like the rabbit’s, or even of indignation like the yellow man’s. His jaw was set stubbornly, as if he was determined to get her to acquiesce whether she wanted to or not.

And that pissed her off.

“At least hear us out on this,” the boy said firmly. “You can’t just plug your ears and pretend you don’t care about anything. That’s really quite childish.”

Lilliana eyed him coldly. “A three hundred-year-old boy dares to call _me_ childish?” She chuckled darkly. “That’s so pathetic it’s almost cute.”

She took another step forward, but the boy didn’t budge. “Move,” she hissed, letting him see the resolve burning in her eyes. She was going to go out that door whether he made way or not.

From behind her, North gave a soft but stern command in his rumbling voice. “Outta the way, Jack.”

“Let her go,” the rabbit sneered as Jack obediently leapt out of the way. Carried across the room by his summoned wind, he landed lightly beside the others as the Pooka continued crossly, “The children are better off without her anyway.”

Lilliana couldn’t help but laugh. “More than you know, kangaroo.”

She turned once more to leave, but there was a flurry of movement behind her as both the fat man and the fairy shouted “No!” Then came the telltale whistling of a boomerang, alerting her to the instigated rabbit’s attack.

_Really?_

She dodged the assault easily, but the rapid patter of paws told her the rabbit was only just getting started. She spun smoothly on the spot, bringing up her staff for a counterattack, but halfway across the room the Pooka skidded to a halt, eyes nearly popping out of his fuzzy head as he stared with what could only be described as shock and…fear?

The others, too, were crying out in alarm and snatching up their weapons, fairy and fat man drawing their swords while Sandman summoned his whip of golden sand. _What—?_

She looked back over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of what had frightened them all: golden eyes, burning with rage, set onto a handsome gray face.

_No!_

That was the only thought she could muster before a pair of arms wrapped tightly around her and pulled her back into the swirling portal of darkness and shadow.

* * *

The moment they were back home Lilliana turned to give Pitch a sharp slap on the chest.

“What were you _thinking?_!” she cried. “Now they all know you only pretended to be defeated!”

“You’d rather I stood back and watched?!” he shouted back, golden eyes blazing. There were lines etched around his mouth, the only indication of just how much effort he’d been forced to exert in order to rescue her.

“You think I cannot handle myself, Pitch? Is that it?! Do you honestly believe I am incapable of defending myself against a stupid Pooka?!”

“Of course not!”

All around the room the Nightmares paced nervously, eyeing the pair with caution tinged with something very close to worry. Their masters rarely fought, and those bouts were only made all the more frightening because of that fact.

“What is it, then?” Lilliana asked more quietly, though with the same ferocity. “What on earth possessed you to come out of hiding after I _told_ you that I could take care of it?”

He held her gaze for a long moment, chest rising and falling visibly with each sharp breath. Then his eyes dropped to the floor.

“He attacked you,” he said softly. “I…I just couldn’t stand for it.”

The anger on her face died away, and she reached up to caress his cheek. She understood. She understood completely. He was a very proud, possessive man and hated it when other spirits meddled with what was his, be it his plans or his Nightmares or his woman.

_Especially_ his woman.

He knew full well the extent of her power, and had witnessed for himself just how easily she could defend herself whenever necessary. His interference hadn’t been about a lack of trust, or even about a lack of faith in her strength. He’d gone to the Pole because he was worried, and had sprung out of hiding because he’d felt compelled to defend her just as she’d felt the undeniable need to do the same for him that night on the frozen pond. They’d both damned the risks in the heat of the moment, and now they were both suffering the consequences of their decisions.

He looked up at her again.

“Why were you even there?” he asked her. “What in the name of darkness possessed you to go there?”

She laughed bitterly. “You think I went by choice? That damned North sent his yetis after me. They surprised me in the forest and stole my staff.”

“So they really wanted you to help them?”

“Yes. They wanted me to be a Guardian.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

His expression fell for a brief moment. Then he growled. “He knows!”

“Yes. He must’ve seen me command those mares to help you and guessed what was really going on. He’s just using Guardianship as a ruse to get me away from you.”

“So the others don’t know?”

“Not yet. But after that little stunt you just pulled I don’t think it matters anymore. They’re going to come after you again, and when they do I’m not going to just stand back like I did last time!”

The intensity of her words, the fire in her eyes that burned just for him, set his heart pounding. Excitement and something much richer pooled within him and he smiled broadly, reaching forward to pull her into his firm embrace.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured into her ear. Then his nose wrinkled with disgust. “You smell like Christmas.”

She laughed and slapped him again, but more playfully this time. “You hardly smell better.”

He pulled a face. “Even the shadows there reek of cookies and wrapping paper.” Then he got a wicked gleam in his eye and, without warning, hoisted her into his arms.

“Hey!” she said with a laugh as the unexpected motion caused her to drop her staff. It clattered to the floor and was quickly forgotten, the white flame flickering brightly in the semi-darkness.

“I believe a bath is in order,” he said smoothly, teeth gleaming as he grinned down at her.

“You’re impossible.”

That was all the complaint she could muster as he strode away towards the baths, holding her quite easily in his lean arms. As they disappeared up the stairs, the Nightmare Onyx stepped forward. Carefully taking the neglected staff between her teeth, she trotted away in the direction of her masters’ bedchambers, where she instinctively knew the pair would inevitably wind up before the night was done.


	4. Misguided Plans

Back at the Pole, everything was in chaos.

Tooth was flying rapid circles in the air, babbling away as if trying desperately to make sense of what she’d just witnessed.

“I can’t believe it, can’t believe it! It was Pitch! Pitch Black was here, he was just _here_! What’re we going to do, North, what’re we going to do?!” Then she gasped. “Lilliana! We have to help Lilliana, she was just kidnapped by Pitch!”

The others were all talking at once, Jack trying to figure out what happened while Bunny and North argued over Sandy’s head, the latter all-but ignored as his silent symbols failed to grab the much taller spirits’ attention.

“Naughty List,” the big man was saying sternly, gesturing to the tattoo on his right arm.

“She started it, mate,” the Pooka objected. “First that bit about Manny, then telling us we’re stupid and that we bribe the children…I just couldn’t stand for it anymore!”

“No excuses!” North refuted, wagging a finger in Bunny’s face.

“She called me a bloody roo!”

“No excuses!” the big man repeated.

“And how was I to know that ratbag was hanging around?!” Bunny continued to argue. “He’s supposed to be banished to the dark, not skulking around the likes of this place!”

“What’re we going to do?” Tooth repeated, dropping down to flutter amongst the group. She wrung her hands nervously as she spoke, and her expression was almost pleading. “We have to get her back, North!”

Bunny gave a bark of laughter. “Yeah? And how’re we supposed to do that? We don’t even know where the shadow skulker’s run off to!”

“Back to his realm,” North said with conviction. “Down to the dark.”

“We can’t just leave her,” Tooth insisted, and Sandy nodded a firm agreement.

“Uh, guys,” Jack cut in. They others all turned to look at him as he asked, “Why’s this such a big problem? If that Starfire’s as powerful as she seems to think she is, then she shouldn’t have any trouble dealing with Pitch, right?”

“You don’t understand, mate,” Bunny said, shaking his head.

“Every spirit’s power has its limitations, Jack,” Tooth started to explain, but Bunny interrupted her.

“You don’t go flying about the deserts or near the equator, do you mate?”

“And Sandy doesn’t make dreams during the daytime,” Tooth continued. “And Pitch...” She had to stop for a moment as she choked on the name. After a calming breath, she began again. “And Pitch sticks almost exclusively to nighttime because it is much, much easier for him to work in the darkness when there is an overabundance of shadow and plenty of dreams for him to manipulate.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be daytime soon,” Jack pointed out. “So won’t she be okay then, being the Sun’s daughter and all?”

“It doesn’t work that way, kid,” Bunny said. He’d resumed his pacing. “Starfire is the Sun Woman’s daughter, but heat and light aren’t her main forte. Plants are.”

“So? She managed to make them here in the cold just fine.”

“ _So_ ,” the Pooka said on a huff, “where do you expect her to get or make plants down in the dark reaches where sunlight never touches?”

Oh.

“Even in daylight when Pitch is at his weakest,” Tooth explained quietly, “Lilliana will be trapped down there without her plants to help her, especially if he manages to get her staff away from her.”

“He’ll get it from her,” Bunny said grimly. “My bet’s he stole it while she was smothered in the shadows of that portal.”

Jack felt a hard knot building in the pit of his stomach. He knew first-hand what it was like to have the Boogeyman get his hands on another spirit’s staff. That feeling of being completely overcome with weakness and helplessness and despondency…he wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even someone as wholly unlikeable as Lilliana Starfire. He could almost imagine the Nightmare King toying with the flora spirit, concealing her staff somewhere deep within the labyrinth of his home since he couldn’t break it like he had Jack’s, and mocking her gleefully while she struggled through the dark in her desperate attempts to find it.

 _We have to help her,_ he realized. He repeated the thought aloud. “We have to help her.”

“Of course we do,” Bunny said sharply. “This is entirely our fault. We started that mess with Pitch and didn’t finish it properly, and now he’s trying to get back at us by stealing away our newest recruit!”

“I cannot believe he is back so soon,” North mumbled to himself, and the others nodded in agreement. The big man had his hand to his chin, looking quite contemplative.

“He must have found some way to escape the Nightmares,” Jack offered.

“It really doesn’t matter how he did it,” Bunnymund cut in, still pacing relentlessly. “What matters now is stopping him before he can corrupt Starfire.”

But Jack wasn’t listening. His eyes had widened as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Jamie!” If Pitch was back then surely the first thing he’d want to do is get revenge on the children of Burgess. It had always made Jack incredibly uneasy, knowing that the entrance to the Boogeyman’s home was located so close to the little town. The kids there could be suffering nightmares again with none of them any the wiser!

“They’re alright, Jack,” Tooth said reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder. “We would’ve heard something if there was any trouble.”

Sandy nodded and pointed to the image of a snow globe that he’d conjured above his head. Jack sighed quietly and nodded in turn. They were right. If something really had happened then the ever-vigilant Jamie would’ve called on the Guardians for help by now. They’d left him with one of North’s snow globes for that very reason, hadn’t they?

Still, Jack just couldn’t shake the worry completely from his mind.

Tooth seemed to sense his lingering doubts. “We just had a couple of pickups from Burgess, Jack, including one from Jamie’s neighbor. Right lateral incisor.” She smiled briefly at the memory of it. “My fairies would’ve known if something was wrong,” she finished with a reassuring pat on Jack’s shoulder.

“So what’s the plan?” Bunny said loudly, interrupting their conversation. His green eyes were fixed on North, who was still deep in thought.

“We shouldn’t waste time,” Jack said quickly. He gripped his staff tightly and announced, “We should go get her tonight!”

“No!” North suddenly declared, surprising the lot of them. “No, we do not go tonight. Pitch is strongest at nighttime.”

“So is Sandy,” Jack pointed out, and the little man silently agreed.

“No offense, Sandy, but you may sit this one.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the Pooka spluttered, stopping mid-stride and eyeing North in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘he’s sitting it out?’”

Sandy seemed to be in agreement. He had one eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, one tiny golden foot tapping the floor as if demanding an explanation.

“Listen,” the Russian said quietly, and the others gathered close to hear him. “Boogeyman is strongest by night, no? Sandy also. So he thinks we go by night so Sandy can be big help.”

“But we won’t,” Bunny said slowly, trying to piece everything together, “because he doesn’t expect us to _not_ fight together.”

The big man nodded. “We Guardians _always_ fight together…at least against Pitch. So! What if we _don’t_ this time?”

“I don’t get it,” Jack grumbled, but Bunny seemed to have figured out what was on North’s mind.

“Getting Starfire out is more important than beating Pitch right now,” he explained to Jack. “But he won’t expect that of us. He’ll expect us to go straight for him because that’ll solve both our problems in one swing.”

“But it’s the harder swing,” Tooth put in with a smile as if she, too, was starting to understand.

“So if we go by day when Sandy is weak, Pitch’ll think we’re sacrificing his help to try and get the one-up on him,” the Pooka went on. He grinned wickedly. “But really we’ll be playing him for a complete dipstick.”

Jack still wasn’t convinced. “How so?”

“Easy!” North boomed. Then he seemed to remember the atmosphere and said more quietly, “Tooth, Sandy and I fight Pitch while you and Bunny look for Lilliana.”

“But will you three be able to handle him?” Jack asked with real concern. They all knew how formidable Pitch could be in a fight, but out of all the Guardians he was the only one who’d ever been inside Pitch’s lair. He knew how wily the Boogeyman could get on his home turf, toying with spirits with his shadows and his twisted labyrinth of crumbling stairs and broken paths that led nowhere. “Without Sandy, it’ll pretty much be you and Tooth on your own.”

“But the point isn’t to beat him, Jack,” Tooth reminded him. “Just to distract him long enough to get Lilliana to safety.”

“The trick will be getting in,” Bunny suddenly pointed out. “The entrance was sealed after that Nightmare attack back at the pond.”

“ _That,_ ” North said with a smothered laugh, “is why plan is so perfect!”

“Huh?”

“You see,” the big man whispered conspiratorially, clapping his hand on the Pooka’s shoulder, “there is always way to get door open.”

“Yeah, but if we all go down that tunnel at once Pitch’ll be able to figure out what’s going on without having to think twice about it. He’d see me and Jack try to slip off.”

“So!” North went on, undeterred by Bunny’s doubt. “We get door open, Tooth, Sandy and I. Then! You and Jack go in…back door.”

“Back door?” Jack and Bunny said in unison.

“Yes!” North couldn’t contain his laugh this time, and it rumbled deep in his throat. “Bunny!” he shouted, making the Pooka jump. “You do it! Do that thing.” He tapped his boot on the workshop floor in a very distinct manner.

“Oh, no,” Bunny said loudly, holding up his paws. “No, no! I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can! Do it all the time!”

“To other spirit’s realms, yes, on occasion, but not to anyone’s place who didn’t _want_ me there! I have to have permission to do that sort of thing!”

“Jack!” The big man turned his attention to the frost spirit, who stiffened under the intensity of North’s rather inappropriate exuberance. “You give permission.”

“Huh?!”

“Yes!” North rubbed his hands together excitedly. “You’ve been there! You give permission!”

“You know it doesn’t really work that way,” Bunny started to say but North waved him off.

“You need to know where you’re going. So! Jack describes it to you, then you know.”

“I’m so confused,” Jack mumbled. “Do you need to have permission or do you need to know where you’re going?”

“Well, generally, it’s the same thing,” Bunny explained. He still didn’t look convinced of North’s big plan. “For places in the human world where there’s no magic, it doesn’t really matter, and same goes for the Pole and Tooth’s place ’cause we work together and I’ve been there loads of times. But other spirits are pretty protective of their realms. The few that have invited me sent assistants to play escort, but once I got there and got a good look of the place I was able to make my tunnels lead inside whenever I wanted. Although,” he added with a dry smile, “I don’t make a habit of just showing up unannounced. It’s really discourteous, bordering on obscene, for a Pooka to just invite himself to another spirit’s realm.”

“You’re the only one of us who’s been to Pitch’s home, Jack,” Tooth said gently. “So you’ll be able to describe it to him, hopefully well enough that he can make it in without needing to go there himself first.”

He knew she was choosing her words carefully to avoid sounding like she was placing blame or somehow accusing him of past misdoings, but he felt bad about it anyway. After all, Easter had been ruined and Bunny had nearly been forgotten because of his little visit. 

“I-I can try,” Jack said hesitantly. His grip on his staff tightened. “I wasn’t there for very long, you know.”

“Anyplace is fine,” Bunny offered quickly. “As long as it’s at least this big.” He gestured with his paws, indicating the size he meant. “A room, a hallway…heck, even a patch on the ceiling will be good enough, as long as we mind the fall.”

“But wait,” Jack put in as a sudden thought occurred to him. “Won’t us _not_ being together when we attack Pitch give away the whole plan?”

“That’s just it, mate,” Bunny told him. “Because he _expects_ us to be together, he’ll just assume the two of us are hiding somewhere ’til his back is turned. He’ll suspect a trap, but the one we spring on him won’t be the one he’s expecting.”

“Because of Sandy,” Jack remembered. The little yellow man grinned and conjured a golden thumbs-up over his head in confirmation.

“Good plan, yes?” North said with a knowing grin. “Jack, talk to Bunny. We leave once sun is up.”

“How will you guys be getting in, then?” Jack asked, but felt stupid for asking it almost immediately because North started laughing.

“Snow globe of course!”

* * *

“Is that it?” Bunny questioned for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Yes!” Jack grumbled, raking his fingers through his snow-white hair in frustration.

“No need to get cranky, mate, I need to know these things!”

“Details, yes, yes I know. Details!” the frost spirit griped back. “I told you I wasn’t there for very long, and I was pretty distracted by everything going on so I didn’t pay much attention.”

“Well I need a bit more than ‘dark and spooky.’”

“Well that’s pretty much all it was,” Jack said. With a sigh he threw himself back onto the padded couch, one leg dangling over the side so that his toes brushed the floor. “It was very dark, and almost everything was made of stone but much of it was crumbling, like the place was decaying. Broken stairs, falling pillars, walkways that led nowhere…. There was a section that looked almost like a cave, with stalagmites and stalactites, but that was right near the entrance so I don’t think that’ll do.”

“No,” Bunny mumbled thoughtfully. “No…that won’t do…”

“It’s like a labyrinth down there,” Jack went on. He stared up at the ceiling as he spoke. “Every shadow you walk through leads you somewhere else. I wandered around inside then somehow ended up back at the egg tunnels just by passing through this one patch of darkness.” He glanced over at the Pooka. “He’s in control down there. If he catches on to what we’re doing, we may never make it out again.”

“I know, I _know_ ,” Bunny growled, running his paw over his ears in aggravation. “Right now I just want to focus on getting _in. Then_ we can worry about getting out again.”

Then he brightened, as if he’d suddenly gotten an idea.

“That’s it!”

Jack stared at him. “What’s it?”

“Make me a picture.”

“Huh?”

“With your snow and ice and what-have-you.” Bunny waved at the frost spirit’s staff, which was propped against the back of the couch that Jack was lying on. “Use your frost to show me what it looked like.”

“It won’t be exactly the same,” Jack warned but the Pooka waved the concern aside.

“Better than leaving it all up to the imagination, mate.” He scrambled closer. “Come on, show me.”

So Jack did as he was bid. He picked up his staff and swished it over the floor, creating the best three-dimensional image of Pitch’s lair that he could muster from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but he had to admit it looked a lot better this way than it did just from his verbal description.

Bunny hunkered down near the glittering frost depiction and studied it carefully, stroking his furry chin with one paw. “This the entrance here, then?” he questioned, pointing at the cave.

“Yes. And this is just what I saw of it, I didn’t get very far. But I have a feeling the place is huge.”

“Sure to be,” Bunny agreed without looking up. “Most realms are.”

They sat in silence for a long while, Bunny studying the image and Jack studying Bunny. The Pooka was so deep in thought, in fact, that he didn’t even notice when North suddenly burst into the room.

“Ah, Jack!” The big man strode forward and leaned over Bunny’s shoulder, nodding his head in satisfaction at the sight of the icy display. “Excellent work, Jack, excellent,” he said with relish. Then he straightened up again. “So! Any news?”

“It’s gonna be tough,” Bunny informed him. He waved his hand about the image. “This is all Jack’s seen, and it’s just one room. And here,” he pointed, “is where the entrance is.”

“Hmmm…” The big man nodded his head again, but this time thoughtfully. “Not much room,” he commented.

“He’ll have to be pretty darn distracted not to see us,” Bunny confirmed. “We’ll have to coordinate our moves down to the second.”

But North didn’t seem all that bothered by the problem.

“I know!” he cried merrily. Then he announced, “Look! I fix problem!” and pulled something small and round from his pocket.

“A snow globe?” Jack asked doubtfully, eyeing what was undeniably a smaller version of North’s portal globes.

“Yes!” North was so excited the word was practically a squeak. “But not for portals!” He pulled a matching globe from his other pocket so that he held one in each hand. While Jack and Bunny watched quizzically, the big man shook one of the globes. It started to glow red, the same color as his coat and his sleigh. A moment later, the second globe also turned red.

“That’s it?” the frost spirit asked, but Bunny seemed pretty pleased by the result.

“So we’ll wait outside the lair while you guys get his attention,” he said, stroking the globe almost tenderly, “and once you’ve got his mind, you’ll give this a shake to signal us.”

“And in you go!” North finished with an enormous grin. “ _Then_ , once you find Starfire, _you_ shake, and off we go.”

“That’s the other thing, Bunny,” Tooth called as she flew through the open doorway, Sandman on her heels. Jack saw that the yellow man was starting to look pretty worn and tired as dawn approached.

“Sandy and I were talking,” Tooth explained as she reached them, “and we think it’ll be better if we take Starfire to the Warren instead of back here.”

“What?!” Bunny cried, dropping the signal globe. North had to stoop quickly to catch it. “Why do I haveta play host to that arrogant sheila?!”

Tooth opened her mouth but Sandy beat her to it, conjuring an image of a tree above his head. Bunny groaned loudly, but Tooth Fairy was adamant.

“There is plenty of green there for her to defend herself with, Bunny, and lots of sunlight. Not only will she be more powerful, but Pitch won’t dare make a move on her while her mother is watching. Besides,” she added after casting a quick sideways glance at North, “Pitch’s been to my Palace and here at the Pole several times already. He’s sent his Nightmares to the Warren but hasn’t been there himself so it’ll be much harder for him to get in, especially when there are so few shadows for him to take advantage of compared to our realms.”

“Why can’t she just go back to her own realm?” Jack asked quizzically.

“She doesn’t have one, Jack,” Tooth informed him, much to the frost spirit’s surprise. “She’s considered something of an oddity because of it, being so old and so powerful but never settling down to create her own realm.”

“Entire world is her realm,” North said with admiration, one large hand sweeping through the air as if to take in the entire planet with that single stroke. “Every green place….”

“She’s a wanderer,” Tooth clarified. “Sort of like you.” She smiled awkwardly. “Except, you know, she’s much older and all, so it’s much stranger for her to still be unsettled. You’re pretty young still, for a spirit, so it’s not so strange.”

Bunny groaned again. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, running his paw over his ears as he finally gave in to Tooth’s proposition. “But I’m gonna hate every second of it.” Then he muttered, almost to himself, “This just keeps getting worse and worse for me!”

And Jack found that he couldn’t agree with the Pooka more.


	5. "Rescue"

Pitch was woken from a deep sleep by the rapid approach of an all-too familiar presence. He lay still for a moment, trying to determine if the threat was worth dealing with or if those pesky Guardians were just in the area for some other purpose. _Perhaps those brats are in some sort of trouble again…_ But then he heard the distant warning of one of his Nightmares, and his eyes snapped open.

_Already?_

He sat up in bed, the heavy cover slipping down from his shoulders to pool around his hips. He listened closely, waiting for the next call from his mares. When it came, he found himself stifling a groan. He’d expected a rescue party, but not for a while yet. It had hardly been a night!

Rising swiftly, Pitch moved for the doorway, completely uncaring of his present state of undress. He was met partway down the hall by Onyx, who’d dashed straight over to rouse him. The mare skidded to a halt just before crashing into him, her golden eyes blazing as her sides heaved with each panting breath.

“How close?” he asked quietly, and the mare snorted and stamped her hoof in response. 

His own eyes burning with a promise of vengeance, Pitch ordered the mare firmly, “Gather the others, but make no move against them until I arrive.”

The Nightmare spun sharply and galloped away. She’d hardly vanished around the corner when she started screaming for the others to join her, the chorus of responses echoing beautifully in the darkness of his home.

Returning to the room, Pitch dressed quickly and efficiently. Then he moved to the bed and carefully climbed across the soft mattress to lean over the distinct bulge in the covers.

“Lilly.”

She stirred but didn’t rise, instead pulling the blanket tighter around her head. Pitch couldn’t help but smile as he reached out a hand and gently shook her shoulder. “Lilly. Wake up.”

“Hmmm?” She rubbed her eyes sleepily and glanced over at him. Then realization dawned on her and she bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. “What is it?” She paused as she heard the distant cries of the Nightmares, her eyes flicking to the door before returning to his face. “Already?”

“Yes.”

“How far?”

“They’re almost to the town.”

She looked as if she were about to curse but then her mouth set into a stubborn line. “I’m helping you.”

“No.”

“If they see me fighting alongside you then they’ll know I’m here of my own accord.”

“They’ll never believe it. They’ll just assume I corrupted you.” He pulled a face. “You’re supposed to be a _Guardian_ , after all.”

She groaned at the very mention of her new designation, but would not be dissuaded. “I’m helping you,” she repeated obstinately. 

“No.”

“I mean it, Pitch, I’m not going to just take a back seat this time.”

“This is different, Lilly.”

“How so?”

“If you’re seen fighting beside me then those pests will have cause to go ask the other spirits for help. They may even request aid from your mother.”

Her resolve wavered for just a moment at the mention of the Sun Woman. Seeing the flicker of uncertainty reflected in her beautiful green eyes, the Nightmare King pressed on.

“She may not like our dear friend Manny thanks to what he did, but her hatred of me runs just as deep. I am the antithesis of everything she knows and loves. There is no doubt in my mind that she would jump on the chance to crush me should the Guardians ask it of her, especially since she doesn’t know the whole story.”

He couldn’t help but scowl at the knowledge that the Man in the Moon was playing them all with practiced ease. At first Pitch had been confused as to why his old friend hadn’t told anyone else the truth the moment he’d learned of it, but now he understood why. _This_ was why. With everyone else kept in the dark on the matter, no one had any idea that Lilly wasn’t in any danger with Pitch, that in fact quite the opposite was the case. As a direct consequence of this tactical ignorance, the Guardians had all assumed that she had been kidnapped by him and was in imminent, perhaps even lethal, peril, which was just cause for virtually every spirit able and willing to come to their aid. Of course, the Guardians would try to manage it themselves first; their pride dictated that they do no less. But when their petty attempt inevitably failed then they’d eventually resort to asking for help, and the Sun Woman, among many others, would undoubtedly answer their call. It was no secret to Pitch that he was one of the most hated spirits in existence and that most would jump on the opportunity to be rid of him. Even Jack Frost, who always made a mess of everything, was treated more as a tolerable nuisance whereas Pitch was outright despised and feared and regarded by many as the lowest form of scum the Earth had ever pushed forth. The spirit world would likely rejoice at the prospect of being rid of him once and for all, and that Sun Woman in particular would find great pleasure in grinding the Nightmare King under her burning heel.

 _To think you’d go this far to ensure that you got her away from me,_ Pitch thought darkly. _This is really quite low of you, old friend._

Lilly lifted her chin. “Then we’ll tell her.”

He stilled. “What?”

She met his gaze squarely, undeterred by the menace lurking in the depths of his tone.

“We’ll tell her the truth,” she repeated, “and we’ll tell the Guardians, too, and then they will all have no choice but to—”

“No!”

He startled her with his vehemence and he felt terrible for it, but he wasn’t about to apologize because he didn’t want to take back what he’d said.

 _No way we tell them,_ he thought fiercely. _Over my dead body!_

Her shock at his reaction lasted only for a moment. Then her expression fell into a glare.

“Why not?” she demanded to know. “If we tell them all the truth then there is no reason for any of them to bother us.”

“We’re not telling them, Lilly.”

“There won’t be any need to deal with the Guardians anymore,” she pointed out, “and everyone else will have to leave us alone, too, even my mother.”

“I said no.”

“Why not?! Moon-man already knows, so they’re all going to hear of it eventually, so why not use this opportunity to explain it on our own terms?”

She was being so very reasonable that he felt wholly _unreasonable_ for not agreeing with her, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Not in this. Anything else but this.

“I don’t want anyone to know.”

He half expected her to grow angry, to question whether or not his stubborn refusal was due to some latent shame he carried over their relationship, but she didn’t. Instead she fell quiet, and looked deep into his eyes for long moments. It felt as if she was searching the very essence of his existence for the answers she needed, the vivid green of those beautiful eyes holding him spellbound while she studied him.

He could be completely and utterly undone by the power of that gaze.

“Why not?” she finally asked of him, her voice very quiet and gentle.

He sighed heavily, bowing his head to stare down at the black covers. “If they know,” he said softly, “you’ll be stripped of all your dignity. They’ll regard you as a sell-out, as some whore that bound yourself to me out of a desperate bid for power. They’ll look at you like you’re dirty, like you’re less than worthless. They’ll whisper horrid things about you and spread lies about you. You’ll never be shown a single shred of respect or courtesy ever again, not even from your own mother. You won’t have anyone else in this world to turn to ever again.”

When he finally found the strength to raise his head, his face was filled with emotion.

“I don’t want that for you,” he whispered. “I’ve spent countless centuries enduring it, so I know just how harsh those petty spirits can be. Even at my most powerful I was treated as something horrid and foul, but I understood why and at times even expected it, considering what I am and what I do. But I will never, _ever_ stand for anyone to treat you that way, especially when their only justification for doing so will be that you chose to stay by my side.”

She’d reached up while he spoke to caress his face, and the tender touch had given him the strength to make the full confession. He didn’t like sharing his emotions so openly, particularly when they were ones that made him feel vulnerable, but he did it with her. It was never easy, but he bared himself completely for her whenever she asked. Perhaps it was because she understood him that he willingly complied. He could tell her anything and she would accept it wholeheartedly.

Like right now. He knew very well that telling the Guardians about their relationship would be the easiest and by far the simplest thing to do, but as he’d just explained to her he simply couldn’t bear the thought of doing that. And she accepted his answer. No arguing, no reasoning or coercing, and there was plenty of room for her to do all of that and more if she wanted. But she didn’t do any of those things. She listened to his response and embraced it without voicing one single word to try and make him change his mind. They both knew she could force him to give in if she wanted, that if she pushed him hard enough she could get him to do absolutely anything. But she didn’t do that. She had never done that to him, and probably never would. She welcomed the very worst and lowest in him just as readily as she did the very best (which admittedly wasn’t much), and never tried to change or reshape him to fit anyone’s preconceived notions about how a creature like him _ought_ to be. She took him as he was, flaws and all, and he couldn’t ask of her anything more than that.

He leaned into her touch, sighing quietly as his golden eyes slid closed. He brushed his lips across her skin and murmured, “Please stay hidden, love. Let me take care of them.”

She pouted but relented…on one condition.

“Only if you promise to call for me if you need help.”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt I’ll need it. They are coming after me in my own home, after all, and I still have my Nightmares.” But when he opened his eyes and saw her raised eyebrow, he smiled. “Fine, fine. I promise to call if I need you.”

She smiled back, apparently pleased with herself for at least getting partly her own way. “Good.”

He was suddenly very aware of how naked she was beneath the covers, her bare arms and shoulders betraying her even as she pressed the blanket against her body. He felt the first stirrings of desire, but pushed the feeling down. As tempting as she was in this state, barely covered with her vivid red curls tousled from sleep, they simply didn’t have time right now to become distracted.

_Maybe later._

His gaze fell upon her left arm and lingered there. He smiled warmly and reached out to trace his fingers lightly down her skin, shoulder to wrist, loving the way the dark symbols stood out proudly against the brown of her skin.

“Beautiful,” he murmured and bent to kiss the markings. She shivered under his touch, lifting her hands to run her fingers through his black hair.

“Get going,” she whispered huskily, “before I get distracted.”

His laugh rumbled deep in his chest and he stood swiftly. “Be safe,” he said quietly and strode from the room, leaving her to dress and hide before the imminent assault.

* * *

The Guardians rode that North’s ridiculous-looking sleigh to the entrance of his home then left one of the yetis to take it back again the moment they’d disembarked. _Odd_. Odder still, it seemed only three of them were present—Tooth Fairy, Sandman and North. _Where are the others?_ Then he chuckled to himself, remembering how the rabbit and Frost had reacted to meeting his Lilly.

_No doubt they refused to help on account of their immense dislike of her._

Well, things would be that much easier for him if it was only three-against-one.

He wondered how the trio planned on getting in as he’d sealed the opening quite carefully upon his so-called defeat, but then he felt the sudden burst of magic and realized they were using one of the fat man’s snow globes. He scowled. By smashing the globe over the exact place where the hole used to be, North kick-started a brief but ferocious competition between the magical barrier guarding Pitch’s home and the portal he’d just unleashed. This resulted in the seal being warped just enough for the three of them to slip through before Pitch’s shadow magic overwhelmed North’s colorful nonsense and closed the opening again.

_Hmmm, maybe I’ll ask Lilly to sprout a thorn patch there so fat man can’t repeat his little trick._

Carefully concealed among the shadows, he and his mares waited patiently, knowing that the deeper into the darkness the Guardians were drawn the more helpless they’d be once the battle started.

The three invaders stepped out of the portal and the swirling vortex soon vanished, overcome by Pitch’s shadows. North had his swords, Tooth Fairy had her little dagger, and Sandman was…well, to be honest, Sandman looked rather the worse for wear. The sun had risen over an hour ago, and after a long night directing dreams the little yellow man appeared to be quite exhausted. Pitch leered down at him from his hiding place on the ceiling.

 _First to go,_ he thought with a wicked chuckle. The three inevitably overheard his mirth and stiffened warily, but no matter how many times they turned their heads or peered into the shadows they could not find him.

“Looking for something?” he asked, his disembodied voice echoing sinisterly around them. He floated across the ceiling to disappear into another shadow, disorienting them with his constant shifts in location. “I cannot imagine what that might be.”

“Give her back, Pitch,” the fat man ordered, pointing his swords into the air. He was turning slow circles as he advanced, trying to stop the Nightmare King from sneaking up on him.

“Who?” Pitch asked mockingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have no right to hold her here,” the little fairy declared, obviously with much more bravery than she was actually feeling at that moment. Pitch knew. He could always feel fear, and right now that fairy was very, very scared. It filled him with such power he could almost taste it on his tongue.

_Wonderful._

“Oh, I would not say that,” he said as he changed positions yet again, still not emerging to face them directly. “I believe I have every right.”

“She is Guardian,” North rumbled, “she does not belong to you.”

That angered Pitch, for it reminded him of the whole reason they were in this position in the first place—that Man in the Moon’s ceaseless meddling.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself!” he said, causing the three to jump as he appeared quite suddenly before them. He was perfectly at ease here in his home and he let it show, moving with his hands clasped lightly behind his back as if he were out for a lazy stroll rather than about to take part in heated battle. Only his eyes betrayed his true emotions. They flashed with anger as they fixed upon the fat man. “She is no Guardian, and she never will be!”

“You cannot stop it,” North countered, taking a courageous step forward. “Manny has decided.”

“Manny decides a lot of things, North, that doesn’t mean they all come true,” Pitch replied coolly.

The fat man almost seemed smug as he said, “We’ll see.”

With a silent snarl, Pitch turned his back to them. “Leave me be,” he commanded loudly, “or suffer the consequences.” He slipped back into the shadows.

“Come out and face us!” Tooth declared, waving her dagger at the place he’d just vanished to.

“Why?” Pitch asked with a dark chuckle. “You know I’ll win. It’s just no fun when it’s this easy.”

“Fight us,” North said, soft but fierce, “and we’ll see how easy.”

“Or are you afraid?” Tooth taunted with a sharp smile. “Afraid your mares will whisk you away again?”

It shouldn’t have bothered him, that comment, considering the event in question had been a total ruse that they’d clearly bought hook-line-and-sinker, but for some reason it stuck him entirely the wrong way. Probably because he hadn’t _wanted_ to resort to such a humiliating lie, but had done it anyway because he’d been left with no other choice. But mostly it was because he knew full well that he’s lost far more than his pride that night. He’d lost his reputation, his freedom, the power he’d so meticulously collected, the belief of countless children, and, worst of all, he’d lost the secret he and Lilly had so carefully guarded for hundreds of years. That was the one thing in his entire existence that he simply couldn’t forgive himself for, for it had been entirely his own fault. If he hadn’t allowed himself to get so carried away then he wouldn’t have ended up in such a sorry state in front of the Guardians, and if he hadn’t needed rescuing then she wouldn’t have had to come help him and that damned Man in the Moon would still be none-the-wiser.

So that comment didn’t just bother him as the dull little fairy had clearly intended.

It absolutely infuriated him.

“Is that what you think?!” he snarled, practically throwing himself out of the shadows before them so that the ridiculous trio recoiled in surprise. “That I’m _afraid_?!”

He threw out his hands in a clear but furious signal, and his mares appeared instantly at his side. They snorted and stamped, tossing their heads, and the Guardians were clearly taken-aback by just how many of them there were.

“Does it _look_ like I’m afraid?” He laughed wickedly as one of the mares screamed, startling the three pests.

“You really didn’t think that I was gone for good did you?” he taunted them. “Even _you_ cannot be that blind!”

A mare leapt forward and tried to take North by surprise, but the fat man was surprisingly quick and slashed the thing with his sword before it could land a strike. The Nightmare crumpled into black dust, useless and essentially dead.

“No more games!” North shouted, pointing his sword at Pitch.

“Yes,” the Nightmare King agreed in a deadly soft voice. “No more games.”

Then his mares attacked.

* * *

Jack and Bunny were waiting back in North’s workshop, far away from Pitch Black and the others so that the Boogeyman wouldn’t suspect what was going on. The Pooka was pacing nervously as Jack clutched the snow globe, anxiously waiting for it to turn red.

“It’s taking too long,” Bunny mumbled to himself. “They’re taking too long, something must’ve happened.”

“Give them a bit, Bunny,” Jack said, his voice sounding incredibly calm considering how much his stomach was churning. “You know how Pitch likes to play with people first.”

“Yeah,” the Pooka muttered, trying to reassure himself. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Just then the snow globe in Jack’s hands tinkled quietly and the liquid inside turned red.

“Ready?” he asked Bunny, tucking the globe into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, mate.” With that bold declaration, Bunny rapped his large foot sharply against the floor, opening up a large tunnel. He grinned at Jack, his boomerangs in hand. “Let’s go!”

They traveled the tunnel as fast as they could, Bunny bounding ahead of Jack while the frost spirit propelled himself along on an icy wind. They could hear the exit long before they saw it, the screams of Nightmares and clashing of weapons and muffled voices confirming that the battle was indeed in full swing. The Pooka slid to a stop and held up a paw to the frost spirit. Jack landed silently beside him, keeping out of sight while the Guardian of Hope peered carefully over the lip of the tunnel to make sure the coast was clear.

“Let’s go,” he whispered to Jack, and the two of them leapt out of hiding as fast as they could. The tunnel sealed up behind them without a hint of ever being there; even the little flower that usually bloomed over the sealed tunnel mounds didn’t appear. It seemed nothing green ever did grow down here, just as North and the others had said.

Without so much as sparing the ongoing battle a glance, the pair of them dashed out of the room to find Starfire. They knew the best way to help their friends right now was to find her quickly and signal to the others to make their escape. Jack and the Pooka stuck together, knowing better than to get separated in the murky lair. As the frost spirit had suspected the place was absolutely massive, a tangled labyrinth of corridors and walkways and stairs that dead-ended in random places or disappeared altogether thanks to crumbling stone or collapsed pillars. And the rooms… _so_ many rooms. Jack couldn’t keep track of them all, and he was fairly certain that they’d passed through some of them more than once. His suspicions were confirmed when the two of them slid around a corner and caught sight of a distinctly shaped and rather familiar mound of rock.

Bunny growled in frustration.

“This is ridiculous,” he complained as they sprinted along. “How can _anyone_ find their way in this place?”

Thankfully they had the Pooka’s sharp nose to help guide their way, but even then the pair was hard-pressed not to get completely turned around. They ran what felt like hours, calling as loud as they dared for Starfire and receiving nothing in return for their efforts but the soft patter-pattering of Bunny’s paws against the stone floor.

Suddenly, Bunny skidded to a halt and darted down a tunnel they’d been about to pass by. Jack had to do a quick about-face to catch up with him.

“Got her?” he asked, thinking that such odd behavior couldn’t mean anything else.

“It’s faint, but I’ve got her,” the Pooka confirmed. His furry face was set with grim determination.

They were deep inside the lair now and moved with a bit more care, not wanting to lose the scent. But it wasn’t easy. Everything seemed even more fractured and decayed here than it had back at the entrance, and the floor was scattered with debris. Worse, many of the stairs and walkways had completely collapsed, leaving the doorways above their heads with no visible access from the ground. So when Bunny pointed to a high ledge and informed him, “Up there,” Jack had to wonder how the Pooka was ever going to get up there. But then Bunny grabbed hold of his hand without hesitation and ordered, “Go on,” and Jack—a bit stunned by his friend’s resolve—obediently lifted them both into the air on a blast of icy wind. The frost spirit knew just how intense Bunny’s fear of flying was and had often poked fun over it in the past, but this time the thought of teasing the Pooka didn’t even cross his mind. The Guardian of Hope endured the short trip in silence, his quivering muscles and overly-firm grip on Jack’s arm the only indications that he was still very much afraid, and Jack focused on getting his friend up there as quickly as possible.

As soon as Jack deposited him on the ground again, Bunny breathed, “Thanks, mate,” on a relieved sigh and dashed off without wasting a single second on petty theatrics. Jack felt his respect and admiration for the Guardian grow tremendously in that moment, and he sped off after him.

Several twisted tunnels later, Bunny slid into an empty room and stopped, sniffing the air with a twitching nose.

“Close?” Jack asked softly, holding his staff at the ready and eyeing every shadow with suspicion.

Instead of answering, the Pooka grabbed Jack by the shoulder and yanked him back as a blaze of hot fire shot out of the dark at them. The frost spirit yelled in surprise as he fell to the floor, Bunny barely catching himself on all fours before hitting the ground himself. Drawing his boomerangs, the Pooka straightened up.

“Easy, Starfire,” he called. “We’re here to help you.”

“You can help me by leaving me alone.”

“Can’t do that,” Jack said as he leapt gracefully to his feet. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark he could see Starfire half-hidden by a nearby rock, the flame of her staff flickering starkly against the murky backdrop. In the shifting light of her fire the flora spirit didn’t seem hurt at all, but she didn’t exactly look pleased, either.

“We need to get you out of here,” Bunny said. He tapped his foot against the ground, opening up a new tunnel. “Come on.”

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?!” Jack asked incredulously, but Bunny elbowed him sharply. “Ow!” He glanced up at the Pooka and saw that his furry face was grim. Then he remembered.

_That’s right…they were worried that Pitch would corrupt her, just as he tried to do with me._

“What has he done to you, sheila?” Bunny asked, sounding incredibly caring in spite of the fact that he really didn’t like Starfire. “What did that shadow-sneaking ratbag do?”

The spirit laughed harshly. “Nothing you can ever hope to fix, rabbit!”

She stepped out from behind the rock, her staff held aloft so that the sun’s fire was pointed directly at them.

“Leave!” she commanded. “Leave and don’t ever come back.”

“What do we do?” Jack whispered. The words were so soft that he could barely hear them himself, but he knew that Bunny’s sensitive ears could. The Pooka considered the question for a moment, his eyes never wavering from Starfire’s intimidating form. Then he slid his foot across the stone floor with great care and tapped the tunnel closed again.

_What—?_

“All right, Starfire,” he said quietly. “We’ll leave you be, but only if you tell us what he did to you first.”

She laughed again. “Think you can help me?” she taunted. “I don’t think you can.”

“You cannot know that. You have no idea what we can and cannot do.”

“Who do you think I am, rabbit?” she asked angrily. “I am far older than you and _far_ more powerful!”

“Not in this place,” Bunny pointed out calmly. “Even assisted by Pitch’s corruption, you are next to nothing here down here. The darkness smothers your strength.”

Jack thought hard for a moment, trying to figure out what his friend was up to. Then it hit him.

_I see ya, Bunny. I understand._

“Compared to you,” he told Starfire with a grin, “we are much stronger. Isn’t that how we found you so easily?”

“Leave!” Starfire shouted, and swung her staff to the offense. Bunny dodged to the left as the fire came for them, but Jack blasted it with his ice. As he’d suspected, the fire wasn’t nearly as powerful down here as it had been back at the Pole. In spite of the intense heat, his stubborn ice shards soon overwhelmed the flames and put them out.

But that easy victory did nothing to deter Starfire. Wielding her staff with practiced ease, she sent wave after wave of hot fire after them. Bunny continued to leap clear as Jack flew about the room on his wind, deflecting the flames with ice and snow. The floor was soon slick with water, and Starfire had to jab at it with her flames to evaporate it after she skidded precariously while swatting away one of Bunny’s boomerangs.

 _I see it, Bunny,_ Jack thought as he continued to defend himself against the corrupted spirit’s relentless assaults. _She no longer has the will to decide for herself, so we’ll make the choice for her. And she’s too weak right now to stop us!_

“Jack!” Bunny cried, and he glanced over to see his friend rapping his foot on the ground, opening a tunnel right behind Starfire.

_Ah!_

With a flick of his staff, Jack created a sheet of sheer ice on the floor between Starfire and the tunnel. She didn’t see it, as her back was to it, and he didn’t give her the chance to even glance around lest she determine what they were up to and move to defy them. He’d hardly finished forming that ice when his staff was spinning again, directing another blast of cold at the flora spirit. She successfully defended herself against the attack, as well as from the boomerang Bunny sent her way. It clattered loudly against her staff and spun away uselessly, but that sweeping gesture left her wide open. Jack seized the opportunity and sent a concentrated blast of cold air straight for her. It caught her in the chest, knocking the breath from her body, and she stumbled back. Her bare feet slipped on the ice and she fell right into Bunny’s waiting tunnel.

“Pitch!” she screamed, which stunned Jack for a moment. Even if she was corrupted, why would she be calling for him like that?

“Come on!” Bunny shouted, cutting into Jack’s thoughts. As the Pooka dove into the tunnel after Starfire, Jack snatched the globe from his coat pocket and shook it vigorously. When the little thing once again shone red he leapt after Bunny, allowing the Guardian of Hope to seal the opening behind them.

As the earth slid closed over their heads and the pair dashed down the tunnel after the tumbling and shrieking Starfire, Jack thought he heard the sound of a voice, very distant but still oddly familiar, crying out in desperation.

“Lilly!”

But he shook his head at the ridiculous notion. _No way he’d ever do that,_ he thought resolutely. _Besides, she hates being called Lilly._


	6. Exposed

Lilliana tumbled out of the tunnel and landed with a hard thump on the ground, knocking the wind out of her. As she lay there gasping, she felt a surge of power beneath her palms and realized that she was surrounded by green.

_Perfect!_

Scrambling for her staff, she got to her feet just as Frost and that damned rabbit emerged from the tunnel, the entrance sealing up behind them the moment they were through. Frost landed gracefully thanks to his wind and Bunny dropped with practiced ease to the grassy ground.

“Safe,” he breathed with obvious relief.

“Shut up!” Lilliana snarled. She swung her staff through the air, gathering a sea of vines and thorny branches to her side. “How dare you lot do this to me?! After I _told_ you to leave me alone!”

“Easy there sheila,” the rabbit said hastily, taking a cautious step backward.

A portal opened before she could retort and his friends arrived, that ugly fairy and the fat man and that sleepy little yellow thing. They were all panting and sweating, especially fat man in his heavy coat, but they were flushed with success and looking rather pleased with themselves.

That only infuriated Lilliana more.

“Ah!” fat man cried with glee, stepping towards her with outstretched arms in spite of the swirling mass of green surrounding her. “Lilly, you are all right!”

“Don’t call me that!” she commanded, the venom in her words stopping the fat man dead in his tracks. His face fell as he tilted his head slightly to one side to study her.

“Is she not well?” he inquired of the rabbit, who shrugged his shoulders. Apparently they’d all expected her to be _happy_ that they’d just kidnapped her…for the second time _._

Her fury grew to such heights that the flame at the top of her staff swelled impressively, nearly engulfing the obsidian claw that housed it.

“I’m _angry_ ,” she corrected the fat man with a hiss. “Send me back and leave me alone!”

“We just rescued you,” Frost pointed out unnecessarily. “Stop being so stubborn and just be grateful. It wasn’t easy, you know.”

She laughed at him. She laughed right in his face. “Y-you think,” she spluttered as she laughed, “I ought to be _grateful_? To _you_?”

The five Guardians looked at each other, confused. Lilliana wanted to stab the lot of them in the eyes. How could beings that were supposed to be so special as to be hand-picked by the Moon-man himself be so incredibly stupid?!

“There’s no need to be ashamed, Lilliana,” the damned Tooth Fairy said gently. She flew forward and fluttered just beyond the flora spirit’s summoned vines. “Pitch has gotten the best of us all in the past.”

The others nodded their heads in agreement as the fairy continued. “There’s no shame in admitting it and accepting help.”

“I haven’t been _bested,_ ” Lilliana spat at her. “I’ve been jerked around by a bunch of meddlesome fools!”

“What’s your problem?” Frost asked indignantly.

“Why don’t you people get it? I _want._ To be _left. Alone!_ ”

“And we will,” the Pooka informed her in a loud voice. He looked so aggravated that he probably meant it, too. “We’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want…once we figure out what that Boogeyman’s done to your head.”

Lilliana was so stunned by those words that the vines swirling around her vanished back into the ground. Her mind struck blank by their sheer stupidity, for a long moment she could only stand there in stark silence and stare at them. Then, when reason and thought finally returned to her, the only thing that came to mind was:

 _You_ cannot _be serious…_

“You all really think that I’ve been corrupted?” she asked quietly, too dumbfounded by their idiocy to raise her voice at them. “You seriously believe that all of this is about _corruption_? As if _I_ could ever be ensnared by such a ridiculous thing?”

“No need to be arrogant,” the rabbit muttered while the fat man said to himself, “There must be way to undo this, hasn’t been that long yet…”

“Please.” Lilliana rolled her eyes. “This is just pathetic.” She glanced around, but all she could see was unfamiliar green and a bunch of rabbit tunnels leading in different directions.

_No matter. The roots will guide me out, they sing to me even here._

“I’m leaving,” she announced, and her tone brooked no argument. “Keep your noses out of my business from now on and we can just forget this whole thing.”

“Not so fast.”

Frost had leapt in her way, just as he had back at the Pole, only this time the rabbit and fairy were at his side.

“You cannot leave,” Frost said sternly, his staff pointed at her in what he obviously thought was a threatening manner.

“Not until we undo what Pitch has done,” the rabbit clarified.

She felt anger rising, but not for herself. It was one thing for them to consider her weak against corruption…that much she could laugh off as them being the incompetent fools they were. But their continued insistence that her Pitch had corrupted her in spite of the many arguments to the contrary, and the way they were all talking about it with such disgust in their eyes as if they believed that Pitch had somehow _defiled_ her with his supposed corruption, filled her with unspeakable rage.

“Get out of the way.”

The words were barely audible as her jaw was clenched tight against the fury that threatened to boil up out of her. Her hands trembled as she struggled with the urge to raise her staff and burn the entire Warren to the ground. The earth beneath her feet shuddered in response to her turbulent emotions, and the five pests standing in defiance of her will felt it shift. They eyed her warily, weapons at the ready.

“Lilliana,” Tooth Fairy began, one hand raised as if to calm the enraged flora spirit.

“Get out of the way!” she hissed at her. “Before I tear this whole fucking place down!”

The prospect of the Warren being destroyed alarmed the rabbit most, and he immediately summoned his giant stone egg-heads to his aid. They thundered forward, those hideous things, their faces spun around so that the flora spirit was met with a sea of angry frowns.

“Lilly,” the fat man began, but Lilliana silenced him with a shriek.

“ _DO NOT CALL ME THAT!"_

The entire Warren rumbled as the land it was built upon surged violently, completely at the mercy of the thick roots that twisted and bucked in response to her fury. The ugly stone eggs the rabbit had summoned struggled to stay upright on their stubby legs, two of them losing the battle and toppling right over to thrash helplessly on the ground. She could almost taste the fear emanating from the five Guardians; that was how badly they all quaked in the face of her true power.

“Do not _ever_ call me that!” Lilliana declared, her furious gaze fixed squarely upon North. “You do not have permission!”

She then turned to the others. “I will not say it again. Let me pass! And if I hear one more word about corruption,” she warned, “then I will _not_ stop until this entire place lies in shambles.”

“We just want to help you,” the fairy whispered. She looked torn, as if the very prospect of letting Lilliana leave was deeply wounding to her fragile little heart.

“I don’t need help! How many times do you need me to say it before you understand?! And I don’t want to be a Guardian either,” she added sharply when North opened his big fat mouth. “This whole thing is because that stupid Moon-man couldn’t stay out of my business.”

“Manny looks out for you,” the fat man said gently. “He thinks you of as daughter.”

“He is _not_ my father! Whatever guilt he feels over what he did to my mother is no excuse for him to stick his face into my affairs!”

“Then explain, Lilliana,” the fairy told her. “Explain to us so we can understand.”

She turned her head away. “It’s none of your business.”

“If this is all misunderstanding, then explanation can fix it,” North said unhelpfully.

“Maybe I don’t _want_ to explain because then _you’ll_ all be in my business as well!” She jabbed her staff into the ground angrily, but nothing rose to her summons because she wasn’t calling for anything. She was just really, really upset, and growing more upset by the minute.

_I need to get away from these fools before I do something incredibly stupid._

“I’m older than the lot of you combined,” she pointed out angrily. “What makes you think you have any right to order me around? What makes you think you can possibly help me in any manner of speaking?”

“Well we got you out of Pitch’s place, for one thing,” Frost reminded her with a pointed look.

“Yes, yes, a job well done.” Her words dripped with sarcasm. “Only trouble is that I didn’t _want_ or _need_ to be rescued.”

“Stubborn and proud,” that damned rabbit mumbled and cast a sidelong look at Frost. “Like someone we know.”

“Shut up,” Frost muttered back.

Lilliana rolled her eyes. “Stop comparing me to that brat, it’s really growing quite tedious.”

“Ah-ha!” the fat man suddenly shouted, startling his companions. He looked quite pleased with himself as he announced, “We ask Sun Woman!”

“Eh?” the rabbit asked as Lilliana felt her belly grow cold.

_Oh no._

“Yes!” North said merrily, gesturing at the flora spirit with one of his swords. “We get Sun Woman to help! She’ll know how to fix!”

“For the last time, I am _not_ corrupted!” Lilliana growled, but none of them were listening. They never listened.

“Do you think she will?” the fairy asked, hovering nervously over North’s shoulder.

“Of course!” the fat man told her with a careless wave of his hand. “Sun Woman knows best how to defeat shadow.”

“Listen to me!” Lilliana said loudly, but again she was ignored.

“I dunno, mate,” the rabbit was saying, looking apprehensive. “I don’t want to go sticking my neck into anything that isn’t worth stirring.”

“She won’t be angry,” fat man assured him. Then he rethought the matter. “Well…I don’t think so…not at us anyway....”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Frost argued. “She’ll be pissed about it! Do you even know how crazy parents get over their kids? And this is all happening ’cause we didn’t deal with Pitch in the first place!”

“Don’t compare my mother to your pathetic human friends!” Lilliana warned. When they didn’t so much as glance in her direction, she slammed her staff into the ground in frustration. “Listen to me!”

“We better work fast,” the rabbit said quietly. “The longer we wait the worse it’ll get.”

“And it’ll be too late once it’s dark,” the fairy pointed out. “Pitch will be out looking for us.”

“If he isn’t right now,” Frost added.

Fed-up with being blatantly ignored, as if she were invisible, Lilliana swept her staff through the air in a wide arch, casting sending a hot flame after them. The Guardians either deflected or ducked the fire, the dozing yellow man being the only exception. The rabbit had to kick him out of the way at the last minute.

But the fire didn’t go out without casualty. One of the rabbit’s stupid little egg-producing flowers burst into flame, and the Pooka dashed over to stamp it out. He bent low to assess the damage, cradling the thing tenderly between his paws.

Normally Lilliana would be incredibly upset over causing such damage to her own green, but not this time. There were certain life forces that even she couldn’t control, like those flowers that grew only in the Warren and existed for the sole purpose of producing eggs for that bunny’s ridiculous spring hunts. Their loyalty lay with him, not the flora spirit, so she felt no qualms at all about singeing it, even if it had been completely unintentional.

“Are you listening now?” she said in a loud, clear voice, demanding their full attention. Once she knew she had it, she twirled her staff until it was returned to her side. “I am the Sun Woman’s daughter. I will _not_ be ignored like some invisible spirit!”

She saw Frost flinch, the young spirit clearly reminded of all-too-recent memories of wandering the world unseen and unimportant. Completely unremorseful, Lilliana pressed on.

“Now listen to me and listen well: I am leaving this place, and you are not to stop me. And if I so much as catch the whispers of a rumor that any of you went to see my mother, you will pay with _every_ thing and _any_ thing you hold dear!”

They understood, and yet they didn’t understand. It was clear from their faces that they were loath to stop her now that she was good and mad, for they knew that her threats were to be absolutely taken seriously. At the same time, though, they were still unconvinced as to her lucidity and were obviously desperate to free her from the corruption they believed her to be deep in the throes of.

 _Even if they let me leave,_ she realized as she studied them, staring deep into their eyes, _they will still go for help. Words alone will never convince them that I’m not corrupted, and there’s no way to prove to them that I’m not without revealing the truth._

_…But I can’t do that. I promised Pitch I wouldn’t._

She was trapped. She didn’t let it show in her expression, her body language or her tone, but at that moment she really was backed into a corner. If she explained everything to the Guardians then she’d be betraying Pitch. But if she _didn’t_ explain, things would only become far worse than they already were. For Lilliana knew that even if the Guardians agreed to let her go they’d run to the Sun Woman the first chance they got, believing the flora spirit’s earlier threats to be just another by-product of her being under the Boogeyman’s thrall. They’d put it into her mother’s head that Pitch had corrupted her, and if that happened then the Sun Woman wouldn’t rest until the Nightmare King was scorched into nothing.

But if Lilliana stayed with these five idiots and continued to stubbornly guard the secret as Pitch wanted her to, then they’d take her to her mother immediately just as North had suggested. And if _that_ happened the truth would be revealed in relatively short order whether she wanted it to be or not. There was simply no way she could hide such a thing from a spirit as powerful as the Sun Woman, not when she was standing in her very presence.

_My love, I don’t think we’ll be getting out of this without telling…_

Her stomach tightened into a hard knot. It was clear that no matter which direction this situation took, no matter what choice she ultimately made, that there would be direct consequences for one of them.

Her jaw tightened. There wasn’t a question in her mind as to who that someone would be. There could only ever be one answer to such a ridiculously simple problem.

She’d protect Pitch. As painful as it would be for her to betray his trust, she’d do it a million times over if it meant keeping him safe.

 _Damn you!_ She directed that furious thought at the Moon-man. _Damn you and your underhanded tricks! Damn you for not minding your own business!_

North, ever the loud-mouth, broke the silence first.

“Please, Lilliana,” he beseeched her in a soft rumble, “let us help you.”

He looked so pleading it was downright pathetic. The others, too, including the barely-awake Sandman, were all regarding her with similar expressions. Even that rabbit, who’d finally moved away from his stupid burnt flower, was looking at her with pity etched onto his fuzzy face.

She made one last attempt, one final, futile effort to convince them to stand down before she was forced to reveal the truth and betray Pitch’s trust.

“Help me by leaving me alone.”

The ever-vigilant Frost must’ve sensed her weakness, for while the others looked close to giving in he pushed the matter once more.

“We can’t leave you alone. We need you and you need us.”

Her patience snapped.

“What I _need,_ ” she snarled with a slam of her staff, “is for you to leave me be!” She drew in a deep breath, let it out again sharply. “But it seems you just won’t get it,” she whispered darkly. “Not unless it’s shoved right in your damn faces!”

Her voice had risen to nearly a shout by the time she was through. _Damn you all,_ she thought viciously. _Damn you all for making me do this!_

With one swift movement she reached around and tore violently at her left arm, ripping her sleeves right from the seams. The sound of tearing fabric filled the open space of the Warren and she threw the material aside, disposing of it as if it were trash. The moment her skin was laid bare she heard the fairy gasp. Her tiny hands flew to her mouth as the fat man and rabbit both stepped back, eyes wide with shock and alarm, and even Sandman was startled wide-awake by the revelation.

Frost was the only one who didn’t react. He just stood there with a confused frown on his face as if he didn’t have a clue what was going on.

_Typical._

“You see?!” Lilliana yelled at them, thrusting her arm into the air so they could get a good, long look. “See what you’ve made me do?!” Tears burned in her eyes, and she fought hard to keep them at bay but her treacherous emotions betrayed her. The first one slipped down her cheek, and several more quickly followed. “I _told_ you and _told_ you but you just wouldn’t listen! You people _never_ listen to me!”

“I’m sorry, Lilliana,” the fairy whispered from behind her hands. “I’m so sorry!” She was crying, too, but this only angered the flora spirit more.

“Save your tears, fairy,” she hissed even as the angry tears continued to drip down her own face. She felt as if her heart was tearing. She could see their faces as clearly as they could see her arm, and with the exception of Frost the Guardians were all regarding her beautifully marked arm as something horrifying and grotesque.

“Look at what you’ve made me do,” she said again, her voice choked as she lowered her arm. She continued to glare at them, her lip trembling as she felt the true agony of her betrayal of Pitch settle into her stomach, her chest, her very heart. “You’ve made me bare myself to you. Now are you satisfied? _Now_ will you leave me alone?!”

“Lil—” the rabbit began, but Lilliana ignored him. She drove her staff into the ground one last time, calling forth her flora. As the green tendrils rose swiftly to her call and began to take the shape she commanded them to, Frost appeared to misinterpret her reaction as a sign of imminent attack.

So, being the stupid little boy he was, he attacked first.

With a shout he flew towards her, spurred on by his icy wind. He held his staff aloft and made to strike at her, but just as Lilliana moved to drive him back with her fire there was a scream of fury and two Nightmares leapt into existence. The startled spirit skidded to a mid-air stop with an alarmed “Woah!” and dashed away again. The mares—Lilliana recognized them instantly as Onyx and her personal favorite, Ebony—paced restlessly before their mistress, snorting in warning and pawing at the ground, golden eyes fixed firmly on the Guardians.

She sighed inwardly. _Oh, Pitch._

Even if he couldn’t go look for her himself for fear of attracting the Sun Woman’s attention, he clearly hadn’t been prepared to leave her completely alone. Mares must be scouring every inch of the world right now looking for her, undoubtedly starting with the Guardians’ realms. It would explain why these two found her so quickly.

With the Nightmares keeping a watchful eye on the Guardians (who seemed in no mood to stop her now), Lilliana had her flora creature shaped in relatively short order. It looked eerily similar to her Pitch’s Nightmares, except the flora-mare’s eyes were white and she was noticeably stockier than the rather lean Onyx and her companions. She was also dotted with tiny flowers in various shades of pink, yellow, and white, setting her organic beauty distinctly apart from the Nightmares’ dark majesty.

With one smooth motion, Lilliana mounted her flora-mare. Casting the assembled Guardians a final look, she told them firmly, “I will not say it anymore! Leave us alone!”

Then she pulled her mare’s botanical reins and the creature galloped away, taking her through the rabbit’s tunnels towards home, Onyx and Ebony following close behind.

* * *

As soon as the flora spirit and her Nightmare escorts were gone, Jack let out a loud groan.

“Okay, can _somebody_ explain to me what’s going on?!”

Silence. Jack turned to stare at them, his expression shifting from frustration to confusion to worry in a matter of moments.

“Guys?” he asked hesitantly. He didn’t like how quiet they all were, especially North. The big man was usually the most boisterous of the lot, but right now he just looked…stunned. His mouth was even hanging open, as if he simply couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed with his own two eyes.

The silence hung uncomfortably in the air for long moments before it was finally broken by a soft question.

“What do we do, North?”

The words were spoken with such uncertainty that Jack expected them to be coming from Tooth, but they weren’t. Instead it was Bunny who had spoken them, and Jack found he couldn’t avert his eyes from the look of sheer devastation that had settled onto the typically resolute Pooka’s face.

“What do we do now?”


	7. Guilt

When word finally reached him that Lilly had been found, Pitch’s relief was so great that his sigh left him as a gasp of air.

_She’s safe. She’s safe and coming back to me._

He’d been worried that the Guardians would take her straight to the Sun Woman, for if they did so then there was absolutely nothing he could do to help her get home. Neither he nor his Nightmares could even come within sight of the Golden Palace; the heat and light of the place, coupled with the sheer power that the star spirit possessed, kept them all at bay. Pitch was more than willing to tempt the rage of any other spirit by violating the sanctity of their realm, _especially_ when Lilly’s safety was in question, but he knew better than to try such a thing with Sun Woman. With the possible exception of Manny she was the only spirit in the known world with the power to destroy him, and he just couldn’t afford to take that kind of risk now that he and Lilly were bound.

As fortune would have it, though, those five idiots were too stupid to think of such a thing. The Warren wasn’t much better for Pitch, considering how bright and cheery it was all the time, but at least there was no vengeful star spirit there to foil him. His Nightmares were more than capable of moving freely about the rabbit’s realm, and he could go there himself should there be a need for it.

In spite of his mounting anxiety, a small smile briefly touched Pitch’s mouth. There wouldn’t be a need. The bountiful green inside the Warren would offer his Lilly a distinct advantage over her supposed rescuers, and he took some comfort in knowing that it was only a matter of time before she overpowered them and got away.

 _Hurry_ , he thought, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the ceiling. _I need you in my arms again_.

Her absence had been brief, but even that short amount of time was completely intolerable. When it was just the two of them she was free to come and go as she pleased, and she often disappeared for days, sometimes weeks at a time in order to wander the world performing her duties as the flora spirit. He missed her then, but such loneliness was made bearable by the fact that he always knew where she was going and when she’d be coming back to him. That awareness helped him endure the temporary isolation, and he often resorted to counting down the nights until she was at his side once more, reveling in the growing anticipation of her inevitable return.

But this was as different to those times as fear was to valor. Not only had the privacy and security of their home been violated by a group of meddlesome, misinformed spirits, but Lilly had been forced from him completely against her will and was now in a place he couldn’t reach until night fell and the Sun Woman’s attention was diverted.

And that was something he just couldn’t stand.

Once her location had been confirmed by his Nightmares, worry had dissolved into anxious pacing as the turbulent emotions roiling inside him threatened to snap his already frayed patience. He wanted nothing more than to rush to the Warren and cleave those Guardians’ heads from their bodies with his scythe, but he resisted the temptation. Barely. The only thing that stayed his hand was the knowledge that an overreaction would only make things worse.

_Again._

Pitch put a hand to his forehead and made a sound at the back of his throat that was somewhere between a frustrated groan and an angry growl.

He should’ve known it was a trap. The very _instant_ he’d noticed that only three of the Guardians had come to face him he should’ve realized that they had planned something devious. But he hadn’t seen it. He’d been blinded yet again by his arrogance and overzealousness.

 _I’m supposed to be the great and powerful Nightmare King, but I just keep making things worse and worse. I simply_ cannot _win against those ridiculous Guardians…and now I’m dragging Lilly down with me!_

He sighed and ceased his pacing, his face twisted with pain. That was what hurt the most about this entire ordeal—that he could try so very hard to do right by her but fail utterly time and time again. First he’d taken a simple, straightforward plan and twisted it into a ridiculously grand scheme that culminated with his getting caught and degraded by the Guardians. Then he’d allowed his anger and possessiveness to strike reason from his mind and had unwisely revealed himself at the Pole after Lilly had expressly told him not to.

And now this…

It was all unspeakably humiliating, and he felt overwhelmingly guilty for putting Lilly through so much when all she wanted was for the two of them to continue living together in relative peace and complete privacy.

Pitch ground his teeth. It was a good thing their relationship wasn’t common knowledge yet, otherwise the rest of the spirit world would be mocking him mercilessly for being such a failure. He could almost hear the accusatory comments now: _“How can he possibly take care of anyone else when he doesn’t even possess the capacity to control himself?”_

That they’d be right in saying such things only made Pitch feel worse. He knew from past experience just how great and powerful he could be, and right now he was far, _far_ from being that spirit again.

Over the passing centuries, pride and the contempt he felt for other spirits had helped ease the pain of knowing just how far he’d fallen. Then he’d met Lilly and for a long while the truth hadn’t bothered him nearly as much, but even then the insecurity had remained, lingering in the depths of his subconscious where he rarely took the time or care to inspect it. The events of recent days, however, had gouged it out and drawn it back to the surface, throwing right into his face just how weak and pathetic he was without a healthy dose of fear and belief to feed his power. He’d finally gotten a brief taste of his old self after defeating Sandman with his arrow of blue-black nightmare sand, but even that minor victory had been lost to him in relatively short order. In the past week the Guardians had bested him not once, but twice, and now everything was on the verge of being completely undone because of his foolish mistakes.

It just seemed like no matter how desperately he wanted something or how hard he tried, everything he set his sights upon was doomed to fall completely to pieces.

Everything except Lilly.

Pitch drew a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Lilly was the only thing in his existence that hadn’t betrayed or abandoned him, but as recent history was making abundantly clear he wasn’t doing a very good job at all of repaying her for her devotion and love. He knew she deserved more than what he could possibly offer her in his present state, but even if there had been a way to revoke their union he’d never, _ever_ allow it to happen. Such a contradiction was as painful as it was confusing—wanting nothing but the very best for Lilly and yet being so wholly unwilling to give her up in spite of the fact that he was about as far from “the best” right now as a spirit could get.

One of the Nightmares whinnied, breaking the silence unexpectedly. He swung his head around to snarl at it. Duly chastened, the mare flinched and trotted away, head hanging a bit. He glared at the others, (who’d started to reassemble now that Lilly had been found), but they all knew better than to make a sound and averted their eyes.

Pitch turned away, his expression downcast once more. His forced his mind away from that particular train of melancholic thought only to find it returning to another: his latest mistake.

He’d been absolute in his certainty that he couldn’t be bested within his own realm, and it was based upon that flawed understanding that he’d foolishly allowed himself to indulge in his desire to get revenge on the Guardians. But beating him hadn’t been their motive at all...he saw that plainly now. They’d laid their trap knowing his emotions often got the better of him, and all it had taken to set everything in motion was for that stupid little fairy to make one offhanded remark. Just one goading comment about him being afraid and he’d become so consumed by anger and self-hated and a thirst for vengeance that he’d been blind to the scheme that _should_ have been glaringly obvious. His own stupidity was the sole reason they’d succeeded in stealing Lilly away from him, and just thinking about that filled him with so much anguish and rage that Pitch felt his fists clench tight enough for the nails to cut sharply into the skin of his palms.

But even that physical pain was nothing compared to what he’d felt the moment he heard her voice. That fading echo of her desperate cry had wrenched at something deep inside of him, something he hadn’t even known existed until that very instant. He’d felt pain…unspeakable pain…and desperation so great that it had struck everything else from his mind. It was the closest thing to fear he’d ever felt, and it was an experience that he never _ever_ wanted to endure again.

In the midst of the ferocious battle with North and his companions Pitch had abruptly turned his back to them, utterly disregarding his own safety as his golden eyes pierced the darkness. His ears strained to catch the sound of her voice again as he thought wildly: _I heard her! I_ know _I heard her call for me!_

“Lilly!”

When she didn’t answer him an indescribable tension had taken over his body. His stomach had clenched and his skin had grown cold and even the simple act of breathing had become terribly painful.

_Oh, no!_

The whoosh of a portal had alerted him to the Guardians’ hasty escape, but he hadn’t cared. In truth, he’d barely even noticed them leaving. He’d already dropped his scythe and vanished into the shadows, racing to find Lilly. He’d called and called for her, his cries becoming more panicked with each place he searched.

_No! No, Lilly, no!_

Deep within his home, Pitch had discovered a room where the dark stone floor was still soaking wet and covered in patches of half-melted ice, the mess making it glaringly obvious who was responsible for Lilly’s disappearance.

Frost.

 _Oooohhh_ , that Frost! Just thinking about the wretched boy made fury burn hot in Pitch’s stomach. If he ever got his hands on that no-good spirit again, he’d do far, _far_ worse than simply snap his staff in two! He’d crush the thing into twigs and force the splinters down the boy’s throat with his fist!

As for that two-faced Pooka…!

Pitch hadn’t needed the usual evidence the rabbit left behind to know precisely how Frost had gotten in and out again so quickly. The snow globes wouldn’t work anywhere inside his home except at the sealed entrance, and the two interlopers clearly hadn’t forced their way in with North and the others. Those damned rabbit tunnels were the only other possibility, though Pitch admittedly had never considered them a problem before because the rabbit had never set foot inside his realm until that morning. He’d completely forgotten that Frost had the capacity to describe his place well enough for the Pooka to successfully tunnel his way in, and as soon as he deduced what had happened he’d slapped himself for ever luring the frost spirit there.

His petty mind games and poor attempts at corruption, all done for a bit of good fun, were coming back to haunt him.

_Typical._

What angered him most of all, however, was the fact that the Guardians had even considered using such a devious method in the first place. Had Pitch been any other spirit the Pooka would have never _dreamed_ of doing something as insolent as letting himself in, and yet he’d obviously been more than willing to defile Pitch’s realm with his stupid tunnels. That he’d show the Nightmare King such immense discourtesy and no one else incensed Pitch beyond reason.

 _Why me? Why is it always_ only _me?!_

After he’d confirmed that Lilly had, indeed, been stolen away from him, a number of rather intense emotions had boiled up inside of Pitch. He hadn’t even tried to contain them and as a result they’d all burst out at once, causing him to scream his furious denials until they echoed deafeningly against the stone walls. He’d screamed and screamed until he had no breath left to scream, then stood there gasping as he shoved his hands through his hair.

_No, no, no, no, no! Not again! Not again! NOT AGAIN!_

His need to find her had nearly overwhelmed him, but he’d been hampered by the blazing sun. Even in his manic state he’d understood that if that damned Sun Woman spotted him within a hundred miles of Lilly, she’d smite him instantly and question his motives after…if at all.

But even the prospect of facing the Sun Woman’s wrath hadn’t been enough to completely deter him.

 _I cannot leave her,_ he’d thought wildly. _I_ have _to find her!_

With no other recourse, he’d shouted for his Nightmares and they gathered at his side in an instant.

“Find her!” he’d bellowed at them. “Scour every realm, every home, every _inch_ of this damn world until you find her!”

They’d shrieked in assent and galloped away, leaving him to wallow in the misery of his latest failure.

And there he was, still, sulking and torn apart inside as he waited anxiously for his Lilly to come back to him. Each minute that dragged by felt like an endless hour and he soon resumed his pacing, his gaze flicking again and again to a nearby shadow as he waited for a sign of her return.

* * *

Guided by the roots in the earth, Lilliana flew through the egg tunnels on her flora-mare until she was close enough to home for Pitch to open a shadow portal for her. The darkness bloomed to life ahead of them and she drove her heels into the mare’s sides to urge her on. They sprinted through the wall of darkness, Onyx and Ebony hot on their tail, and seconds later all four of them emerged safely on the other side.

No longer surrounded by lush green and healthy earth, the flora-mare collapsed into nothing, but as Lilliana was expecting it to happen she managed to slide off the creature’s back before it disintegrated.

“Lilly!”

She barely had time to turn around before Pitch swept her up into a firm embrace.

“Oh, Lilly,” he breathed, showering her with kisses. When he was through he pressed his face into her hair and gasped, “I’m so sorry! I should have suspected—”

“It isn’t your fault,” she assured him, cutting off his apology and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s mine for getting caught.”

He shook his head in disagreement but said nothing. She could feel his heart pounding hard against his breastbone, the rapid beat revealing just how distraught he’d been over losing her for a second time. She closed her eyes and held him a bit tighter.

For a long while they stood there in the dark and the quiet, clutching at each other. Then Pitch leaned back to look into her eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, reaching up to stroke a curl out of her eyes.

“I’m fine. But Pitch…”

She didn’t get to finish the confession. He’d finally spotted her naked arm, the dark symbols he’d etched upon her body fully exposed.

“You told them?!” he gasped, his reaction causing her to wince.

“I had to! They were going to pull my mother into it, and if she got involved then the truth would come out anyway but it would be so much worse for you!”

There was hurt in his eyes, and it reopened the deep wound left by her betrayal of him. She didn’t look away, but her lip quivered ever so slightly and tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

His face filled with emotion and he took her face in his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. “It’s alright,” he murmured as she wept silently. He kissed her cheeks over and over, brushing away her tears with his lips. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice strained with emotion. “But…but they just wouldn’t shut up about corruption and _listen_ to me. I tried and I tried to tell them without showing them, but they were adamant about getting my mother involved and I just…I just couldn’t bear the thought of…”

He silenced her with a fierce kiss, his hands roving up to fist in her hair and hold her still. She returned the kiss but with a bit more hesitance, for she was still overwhelmed with guilt over revealing the truth after she’d promised not to. She’d never broken a promise with him before, and regardless of her reasoning for doing so the reality of it was far more painful than she’d ever expected.

When he finally pulled back again, he brushed his lips very gently across her mouth and whispered, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did it to protect me, I understand that much.”

“Pitch…”

He feathered a kiss across her lips, silencing her once more. “Don’t forget how long we’ve known each other,” he said with a comforting smile. “I know you’d never break a promise unless you had no other choice.”

“But—”

“If anyone is to blame for this, it is me. The only reason you were put into a situation where you were forced to make that choice was because I decided it would be entertaining to toy with the Man in the Moon and his pests. My actions over the past few weeks have brought all of this down upon the two of us, so don’t ever blame yourself for doing your best to fix what I started.”

She sniffed and nodded, then reached up to rub at her face with her hands. “So ugly,” she muttered, meaning her tear-streaked face and rather undignified sniffles.

He laughed quietly and stilled her hands with his own.

“I’ve never seen you cry before.” His golden eyes were very warm as he took in the strange spectacle. Then a wicked grin spread across his face. “It’s nice for a change.”

“Shut up,” she said rudely, but he just chuckled. He always found such strange pleasure in teasing her.

“It was probably for the best,” he continued with more seriousness. His fingers slid down her bare arm to take her hand, thumb stroking her palm. “Since they know now, the Guardians will probably leave us alone for a while. And when your mother eventually finds out she’ll likely have a good long think about it instead of rushing to smite me straightaway for defiling you.”

He was making a valid point, but his eyes were on the floor and his tone was incredibly somber. Lilliana knew that even if he didn’t blame her for revealing their secret, he still held the same feelings about the matter as he did before. He still believed the rest of the spirit world would renounce her for choosing to be with him, and having already seen the Guardians’ reactions to the news, she knew he had good reason to worry.

Only she didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. She’d kept quiet about their relationship for this long because she didn’t like anyone else being in her business, not because she was ashamed of being with him. None of the other spirits had ever cared much for her, anyway, and her opinions of _them_ ranged from disinterest to contempt to outright disgust, so what did it matter if they started to hate her or feel repulsed by her? It was of no loss to her. The only opinion that mattered to her was Pitch’s; everyone else could do what they’d always done—get over themselves and accept her choices or stay the hell away from her, and that included her mother. The Sun Woman and her daughter had never been close, and if it weren’t for the fact that her mother had spent centuries itching for an excuse, _any_ excuse, to destroy Pitch then Lilliana wouldn’t have worried one bit about her opinion, either. But she didn’t want to be the reason the star spirit finally exacted her fiery vengeance, and had hoped that by telling the Guardians the truth rather than letting them go to the Sun Woman with some convoluted story that her mother would soften a bit to the idea that her daughter was bound to the Nightmare King.

She’d still be furious, of course, but as Pitch had said she’d probably think twice about smiting him once she learned the full truth of the matter. Under any other circumstance she wouldn’t have hesitated to burn him into nothing, and Lilliana simply couldn’t bear the thought of that. Any chance of saving her love from such a fate was better than none at all, and _that_ was precisely why she’d broken her promise and revealed the truth.

Still, it pained her to see her Pitch looking so solemn. He had always been more than content with the way things were, just as she had been, but now their every effort was going to waste. Everything was falling apart, and Lilliana knew that he was blaming himself for all of it: if he hadn’t gone out of control then the Moon-man wouldn’t have found out; if he hadn’t allowed himself to get so angry then the Guardians wouldn’t have seen him up at the Pole; if he hadn’t been so distracted then Frost and that damn Pooka wouldn’t have succeeded in taking her away.

If he wasn’t who he was, _what_ he was, then there wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place; they could’ve been as open and carefree about their relationship as any other spirit.

Squeezing his fingers, Lilliana reached up with her other hand to caress his face, her open palm gliding over his smooth gray skin. That was why he hadn’t wanted to tell. Not because he feared her mother, even though the Sun Woman _was_ enormously powerful, but because he thought the other spirits would look down on her for making such a choice. He was a very proud man, but not so proud that he was ignorant of what others thought about him, and he didn’t want that for her at all. He wanted her to be feared and respected as an ancient and powerful spirit, as was her right, not treated like some defiled plaything of his. His every inhibition rested on his desire to protect her in any way he possibly could, even from his own dark reputation.

When he finally raised his head to look at her, she stared deep into his golden eyes for long moments. Then she stepped closer until their bodies were pressed together. She felt a shiver run through him as she lifted her head to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks of me. All they can do is talk, and if talk hasn’t hurt either of us yet then how can it possibly harm me now?”

She felt a puff of air on her neck as his breath escaped him in a shallow gasp. She couldn’t see his face, but the hand she was holding trembled ever so slightly. She gave it another reassuring squeeze.

“I was only upset because I broke our promise,” she murmured gently. “It was never about what those stupid Guardians thought. We are bound together for eternity; nothing they can do or say apart from destroying us can stop that.” She smiled softly against his skin. “And even if they do destroy one of us then we will still be together. Remember?”

He released her hand to trace his fingers down her arm. He often did that, caressing the symbols that marked her as his for all time. It was a gesture that was equally possessive and tender, and it had the power to both excite and calm him. Right now it was doing the latter, for as he trailed his hand along her skin a second time he drew a long breath and let it out again in a rush of warm air that rustled her vibrant curls. He relaxed against her, letting the warmth of her body sooth him along with her words.

“All I want is for you to be safe and for us to be left alone,” Lilliana continued quietly. She felt for his arm and pushed up the long black sleeve, baring his own collage of white-gold symbols. When she touched them, she felt a tremor run through his body. “To hell with everything and anything else.”

He bent a bit closer to bury his face in her hair, breathing deep to take in her delicious scent. She pressed her cheek against his so she could do the same, filling her lungs with the dark spice of his hair and skin.

“I love you,” she told him, and she had never meant anything more in her entire existence.

And when he repeated the words, there was just as much sincerity in his tone and on his face as there had been in hers.


	8. Eternally Bound

“What do we do now?”

After the question left Bunny’s mouth, a heavy silence fell upon the Warren. None of the Guardians seemed ready or even able to speak for a long time, which was incredibly frustrating for Jack because he seemed to be the only one who didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?” he finally asked, unable to swallow his questions any longer. “What are you all so upset about? Why didn’t you try to stop her from leaving? What did those marks mean?”

When nobody answered him, he called loudly, “Hey, guys?!”

“Jack.”

The frost spirit turned his attention to Tooth Fairy, who gazed back at him with an incredibly solemn expression on her face. Even her wings seemed to droop as she landed on the ground beside North, who’d dropped his swords and now sat on a nearby rock staring blankly at nothing.

With her hands twisting nervously in her lap, Tooth told Jack, “That was the mark of the _Terminum Aeternum._ ”

“The what of what?”

“The eternally bound,” Bunny said softly, hunkering down near the others. He ran a paw over his ears. “The unbreakable promise, the everlasting oath, the binding rite…there’s a lot of names for it so take your pick.” He chuckled weakly. “ _Terminum Aeternum_ isn’t even the true name for it, but it’s the closest thing anyone can pronounce well enough to remember.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Jack,” Tooth said again, and the frost spirit turned his head to give her his attention. She met and held his gaze as she explained, “The power we possess is only a small part of a much, much bigger magic that flows throughout the universe.”

“Huh?”

“We’re drops in a pond, mate,” Bunny quietly clarified. “Tiny, insignificant drops.”

“Our gifts, our strength…the very existence of virtually every spirit on this planet and beyond can be traced back to those who control this great magic: the celestial spirits.”

_‘Celestial spirits’?_

“But I thought Manny…”

“Manny is great compared to us, Jack,” North suddenly put in, still not looking at anyone, “but in the end, he is like us.”

“A drop in a pond,” Bunny repeated, scuffing the ground with his foot.

“Think of it as a spiritual ancestry,” Tooth continued. “Sun Woman and the Man in the Moon preceded all spirits who currently exist here on Earth; the spirits who guide and guard the realms scattered throughout the stars and moons of the universe are their closest kin. But each and every one of them was willed into existence at some point in time by the celestial spirits, who keep watch over all the things that presently _are_ , once _were_ , and _will be_ some day.”

Jack rubbed his forehead with his palm, trying hard to imagine such a thing and finding it wholly impossible. Picturing a universe-wide magic under the control of these “celestial spirits” who were somehow able to know and do virtually _anything_ was far more than even his vivid imagination could handle.

Struggling to piece it together in his head as best he could, he finally offered, “So…so Manny’s like a Guardian…only…not?”

Tooth smiled a little, though it failed to reach her eyes. “Try to think of it as he’s our Guardian so that we can be Guardians for the children.”

“Oh…”

“It’s all very complicated,” Bunny offered, seeming to understand Jack’s confusion. “Even _we_ don’t get how a lot of it works.”

“So you’ve seen them, then? These celestial spirits?”

The Pooka gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, no! We can only _dream_ of doing such a thing.”

Almost on instinct Jack glanced at Sandy, but the little yellow man just shrugged.

“It’s an incredibly high honor to have seen or spoken to the celestial spirits, Jack,” Tooth informed him. “You simply do not go to them at your leisure or summon them into your presence; _they_ come to _you_ , and only if they feel the desire or the need to do so.”

“Which doesn’t happen often, as you can probably imagine,” Bunny added.

Jack was still struggling to understand. “So if you’ve never seen them or talked to them, how can you know for sure that any of this is true or that they even exist?”

“Remember your past, Jack,” North replied quietly. “You did not know _why_ you became spirit or _how_ your powers worked at first. But! You accepted it, because it _was_.”

“And Manny never spoke to you despite your countless questions, waiting until he knew you were ready.” Tooth’s smiled had returned, though it was a little bit warmer now than it had been a few moments ago. “The celestial spirits work very much the same way, only on a much, _much_ grander scale.”

“I see…” Jack said slowly, and it was true. Little by little he was starting to understand. It was still incredibly overwhelming to think about, but after his friends had put it into that perspective for him it all made a little more sense.

He drew a quick breath. “So what’s that got to do with this…that… _Terminum_ thing? What do the celestial spirits have to do with it and why were you guys all so shocked about it?”

“ _Terminum Aeternum_ is one of the oldest rites in existence,” she explained. “And an incredibly rare one. I can’t remember the last time anybody even _mentioned_ it, casually or otherwise, that’s just how exceptional it is.”

Jack glanced over at Sandy, the oldest of the Guardians. The little yellow man nodded his head solemnly, confirming what the fairy had just told him.

Tooth Fairy went on. “It is a bonding of two individuals, a pact made between them that can _only_ be officiated by the celestial spirits. From what I’ve been told, it’s one of the few times that common spirits like us can personally interact with them, although nobody really knows for sure how you go about getting their attention or exactly what the rite entails. What we _do_ know is that the participating spirits use the rite to swear utmost loyalty and devotion to each other, always and forever.”

“So it’s like…what, a marriage?”

For some reason, that made Bunny chuckle again. “Marriage is nothing compared to this, mate. Such relationships are made and broken at the drop of a stick, even among spirits. But this…” He shook his head. “This is far more serious.”

“ _Terminum Aeternum_ is a permanent union.” Tooth’s voice had become so quiet that the words were barely audible. “It can never be broken.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

North shifted on his rock. His voice was a soft rumble as he said, “Even if one spirit disappears, Jack, bond lives on.”

“It doesn’t even matter whether they’re destroyed or if they disappear because they’ve been forgotten,” Bunny added.

“The spirit they are bonded to will disappear with them,” Tooth finished.

Jack was stunned. He stared at them all, his enormous eyes flitting from one somber face to the next.

“So…so Pitch…”

The fairy nodded her head. “Yes. The Nightmare King has entered into such a pact with Lilliana.”

“But why would he—”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” North interrupted, rubbing his big hand across his forehead. “Why would he do it? _So_ unlike him…”

“Not to mention it’s an incredible weakness,” Bunny put in. “We may never be rid of him, sure, because ‘there will always be fear,’” he scowled at the recollection of what the Boogeyman had told them that night on the frozen pond, “but if Starfire disappears for some reason or is somehow destroyed, then he goes with her no matter what.”

“So why would he do something that gains him nothing but leaves him with such a huge weakness?” Jack wondered aloud.

“Don’t know,” North mumbled, shaking his head. “Does not make any sense…”

“Normally _Terminum Aeternum_ is meant only for those who are deeply in love,” Tooth started before Bunny interrupted her with a snort.

“Yeah, like _Pitch Black_ is in love.” He shook his head and made another dismissive sound. “As if that Starfire could ever love anyone but herself.”

“Is it for control?” Jack suggested. “Maybe if he couldn’t corrupt her he could use that…that _thing_ to make her listen.”

The Pooka shook his head again. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“The _Terminum Aeternum_ cannot be forced,” Tooth informed him. She fluttered her wings a bit so that she floated up to sit on the rock beside North, tucking her legs underneath her. Once she was comfortable, she finished, “It can only be done if both parties are completely and freely consensual.”

“No forcing, bribing, tricking, coercing…. None of that,” Bunny confirmed.

“So she _chose_ this then?”

“Yes.” The Pooka’s face twisted into a scowl. “Of all the things for Pitch to desecrate, it just had to be one of the most ancient and sacred rites in existence. And that Starfire’s no better, going along with him in whatever twisted plan he’s conjured up!”

“I don’t think it’s like that, Bunny,” Tooth Fairy countered. “There’s no possible way for anyone to trick the celestial spirits, and they would _never_ allow someone to misuse the _Terminum Aeternum_ ceremony like that.”

“So explain, then.” Even though he was still crouched on the ground, Bunny managed to put a paw on his hip as he faced the little fairy with challenge in his eyes. “Explain how it’s at all possible for two selfish, arrogant, contemptuous, completely heartless beings to take part in the rite without resorting to trickery.”

“How do we know they can’t be tricked?” Jack asked quickly before an argument could start. When all four spirits turned in unison to look at him, he stammered, “Err…well, I mean I get that these celestial spirits are really powerful and all, but it’s not like they can know _everything_ , right? So maybe Pitch and Starfire found some way to pull one over on them.”

“Exactly,” Bunny said, casting a pointed look Tooth.

But the fairy wasn’t engaging with him anymore. She kept her attention fixed on Jack as she explained in an uncharacteristically firm voice, “We may not know an awful lot about the celestial spirits, but there _are_ things that we know with absolute certainty, and that includes the fact that there is absolutely no way to trick them. While you stand within their presence, they have the capacity to look inside of you and see you for exactly who and what you are.”

“That’s creepy,” Jack mumbled. Thankfully nobody heard him.

“Tooth is right,” North said firmly, and Tooth gave him an appreciative smile. But Bunny still didn’t look convinced, prompting the fairy to throw her tiny hands into the air in exasperation.

“It doesn’t matter either way how it happened…at least not right now.” She fixed the Pooka with a look. “Right now all that matters is that it happened, and because of that we have to respect what it means.”

“Right,” he grumbled, kicking a nearby pebble.

“So what _does_ it mean?” Jack asked her. He was still feeling a little hurt and left out for being the only one in the group who didn’t know these things.

“Because of how rare and sacred the ceremony is, those who have undergone the rite of _Terminum Aeternum_ are supposed to be treated with a certain level of respect. Other spirits aren’t to invade their privacy, for example.”

She suddenly blushed with embarrassment.

“Those symbols on her arm are actually the ancient language of the celestial spirits. As an integral part of the binding ceremony, the participating spirits engrave their vows onto their loved one as a physical representation of their devotion and loyalty. By forcing her to reveal those symbols to us, we were essentially doing something akin to making her strip naked in front of us.”

“ _What_?!” He couldn’t imagine that it was _that_ big of a deal. Those markings were basically a large, intricate tattoo, and there wasn’t anything wrong with looking at someone else’s tattoo, right? Surely comparing that to seeing Starfire naked was beyond excessive.

From the look on Tooth Fairy’s face, though, and the fact that nobody else was speaking up to refute what she’d said, it was becoming clear to Jack that it hadn’t been an excessive comparison at all.

Sensing his confusion, Tooth explained. “Because of the deeply personal nature of _Terminum Aeternum_ , the vows the spirits make to each other during the rite are considered _extremely_ private. Once they are spoken aloud before the celestial spirits and marked upon the body, the words are meant to stay strictly between those who took part in the ceremony. Even if we do not understand what those symbols mean because we cannot read the language, it was still incredibly invasive of us to gaze upon them, even for that brief amount of time.”

She bowed her head in shame. “It is as she said: she tried and tried to tell us but we just weren’t listening to her.” She swallowed, and Jack saw tears welling up in the fairy’s eyes. “And we were going to take her to her mother when there was absolutely no justification for it.”

“It would’ve made things worse.” On that much, at least, she and Bunny seemed to be in agreement. “Sun Woman _hates_ Pitch.”

Glancing down, Jack noticed that a bit of guilt had crept into the Pooka’s green eyes.

A tear slipped free and slid down Tooth’s cheek. “That’s why she showed us,” she said softly. “She knew it would have been a complete disaster if we took her there. She showed us only to avoid her mother getting involved.”

“To protect him,” Bunny grunted.

“We saw all wrong,” North murmured. He still looked rather shaken by the whole situation. “We made _big_ mistake!”

The Pooka laughed dryly. “I’ll say! We thought she was kidnapped by Pitch, but it seems we ‘rescued’ her from her own house!”

“There’s no way we could have known.” Tooth laid a reassuring hand on North’s shoulder. “As secret as the rite is traditionally kept and as private as Lilliana and Pitch both are, short of them coming forward and informing us themselves we’d never have figured out the truth.”

“And even if they had tried to tell us before,” Jack said slowly, “I don’t think any of us would’ve believed it.”

“I _still_ don’t believe it!” Bunny huffed, but stopped himself from saying more after Tooth and Sandy both glowered at him.

Something else was nagging at the back of Jack’s mind, something he just couldn’t figure out no matter how hard he considered it. “So what was all that Pitch was telling us about having no family and being lonely?” he asked his friends. “If he had Starfire how come he was so adamant about being believed in so that he’d have recognition? And if they were together how come she wasn’t helping him, especially after we stopped his Nightmare horde?”

“I don’t know,” Tooth admitted while Sandman shrugged with a golden question mark above his head. Bunny muttered something incoherent under his breath and North threw his massive hands into the air.

“So very confusing!” the Russian lamented.

“Even more confusing,” Bunny stated tonelessly, “is why Manny told us Starfire would be the new Guardian. Whether he knew about her and Pitch or not, she just isn’t right for it.”

“He wouldn’t do it without reason,” Tooth told him, but she looked even less certain of that fact now than she had back at the Pole.

North, though, seemed to be in agreement with her.

“Not without reason,” he repeated with a firm nod.

“Was it just to get us near Starfire so we could draw Pitch out of hiding?” Jack offered.

Sandy waved his hands frantically in the air, a second pair of hands over his head repeating the gesture. It seemed he was convinced that such was _not_ the case at all. 

North agreed with him. “Manny would not do that. He said she is Guardian, so she is Guardian. Just…” he hesitated. “I don’t understand why…”

“You’d think Manny would’ve told us about this,” Bunny grumbled. Jack almost chuckled but managed to swallow it down just in time.

 _Now you know what it feels like, Bunny,_ he thought dryly. Then he thought of something.

“Should we ask him, then?”

North barked out a laugh. “If it was so simple, he would have told us from beginning.”

But Jack wouldn’t be dissuaded. “Even if he didn’t know about her and Pitch, at least he’d be able to tell us why he wanted her to be a Guardian.” It seemed pretty clear to him that _any_ answers at this point would be a whole lot better than what they were stuck with right now…which was absolutely nothing.

“He doesn’t usually tell us the reasons for his choices, Jack,” Tooth explained. “Leaving it open allows us to come to our own conclusions about what makes us unique and important.”

“Our center,” North declared, putting his hand to his chest right over his heart. “Questions help us find center.”

She nodded her head. “He kept it from us for a specific reason. We just have to figure out what that reason is.”

“There _must_ be something,” North mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He suddenly turned to the little yellow man standing beside him. “Sandy, what do you think?”

But Sandman just shrugged. He obviously didn’t have any idea, either.

“There’s got to be a clue to help us figure this out,” Bunny said, getting to his feet. He started to pace in front of the others. “There has to be _something_ …maybe something that can point us in the right direction…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Tooth’s wings flutter briefly as an idea came to her. “Ummm…”

Everyone turned to her expectantly, causing her to hesitate. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled at them. “I think…I think I might have something.”

* * *

“Where is she going?” Jack asked as Tooth Fairy disappeared from view. They were all gathered in the Tooth Palace, where the fairy had brought them without offering much by way of explanation. Glancing at the others, the young frost spirit asked again, “Where do you think she’s going?”

“Must be to get teeth,” North muttered. Then a huge grin erupted across his face. “Memories from tooth!” he nearly shouted, laughing merrily as if pleased by what he suddenly understood.

“She cannot have Starfire’s teeth,” Bunny pointed out with a confused frown. “She’s far too old for them to have fallen out for Tooth to collect.”

But Sandy brightened and lifted a finger into the air as he got the idea. Jack, North and Bunny all watched as an image of a very particular tooth appeared over the little man’s head.

“Ah!” Jack cried, and Bunny also got the reference.

“Of course,” the Pooka exclaimed, rubbing his paws together excitedly. “Pitch’s tooth! The one she knocked out.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, trying and failing to swallow his snigger before it could escape. “That was pretty funny.”

“Yeah,” Bunny agreed with a chuckle of his own. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“And now,” North said with a gleam in his eyes, “it _helps_!”

A little fairy suddenly broke away from the swarm high above their heads and flew down to greet them. Jack’s grin widened as he recognized her.

“Hey! Baby Tooth!”

The little fairy landed in his cupped hands and twittered happily, clearly pleased that they’d come for a visit. Several more fairies soon descended to join them and they flew about the Guardians’ heads in little groups, chittering away in their strange language. More than one rubbed up against Jack’s cheek to sigh blissfully at the feel of his cold skin.

“Girls!” Tooth chided as she returned with an object cradled between her hands. “Let’s not disgrace the uniform!”

The tiny fairies chirped their goodbyes and flew away. Baby Tooth was the last to go, flying up to poke the very end of Jack’s nose with her beak before darting away to rejoin the others.

Tooth Fairy landed on the platform beside the other Guardians and held out her hands. They all bent close to take a good look.

The Nightmare King’s tooth was being kept in a long case just like all the others in the Tooth Palace, except it wasn’t golden or beautifully decorated. It was solid black and completely unadorned, and where there should’ve been a simple depiction of a child’s face to mark the source of the tooth (and the memories it contained), there was instead a white symbol painted on the end that Jack didn’t recognize.

 _Must be some kind of warning,_ he thought. It seemed like a reasonable guess, considering how the case was bound firmly shut with several coils of wire.

“I didn’t want any accidents,” Tooth offered on a mumble. She appeared rather ashamed for taking such drastic precautions, despite the fact that she was more than justified in taking them.

In Jack’s opinion, at least.

Bunny seemed to agree with the frost spirit’s unspoken sentiment. “Don’t blame you,” he reassured Tooth Fairy. “I know _I_ don’t want to mess with it.”

But he had to. He didn’t have a choice. If any of them were going to figure out what was going on with Pitch and Starfire and Man in the Moon and this _Terminum Aeternum_ thing, then they were all going to have to wade into the Boogeyman’s memories together.

With a resigned sigh, Tooth carefully unraveled the protective wire and held out the case so that each of them could lay a hand or paw upon it. It seemed the physical contact was necessary in order for them all to share in the unfortunate experience.

“Ready?” she asked nervously, glancing at each of them in turn.

They nodded, though none more reluctantly than Bunny.

“Let’s do it,” Jack said resolutely, clutching his staff tight in his other hand.

With one final nod, Tooth reached out with her free hand to touch the front of the protective case. As it slowly drew open, there was a moment in which the case began to glow. Then Jack, North, Sandman, Bunnymund and Tooth Fairy were all pulled into the murky depths of Pitch Black’s memories.


	9. Memories, Part I

**England, 1623**

The room was quite small, but such was the norm for poor people like this. There was hardly anything in there, just a small trunk at the foot of the bed and a few toys made from scrap scattered across the floor. It was night, and a child lay sound asleep in bed, Sandman’s golden dreams dancing above his wretched little head. The sand was in the shape of a tumbling, roughhousing puppy, and Pitch couldn’t help but grind his teeth at the sight of it.

_How pathetically dull._

Surely the nightmares he wove were far more entertaining. At least _they_ were interesting. Compared to him, Sandman really didn’t have any creativity at all. Pitch had had countless centuries to perfect his art, whereas that stupid little yellow man had only recently become the “Guardian” of dreams.

Just thinking of that word left a foul taste in Pitch’s mouth, and he pursed his lips in disgust.

_To think those five meddlesome idiots could cut me down into something like this!_

Something forgotten and essentially useless.

Pitch glared at the sleeping child. Hatred and loathing burned hot within his stomach, and his mouth curled into a wicked leer as he gazed down at a possible outlet for those dark emotions.

 _I’ll show you, Sandman…I’ll show every one of you Guardians! I’ll_ make _them believe in me again and then there will be nothing you can do to stop me!_

He slipped from the shadows and loomed large over the sleeping child. With a malicious smile he stretched out his hand and touched the child’s dream with the tip of one finger. The boy began to whimper as his innocent imaginings turned into a sinister nightmare of a vicious beast chasing him. The monster foamed at the mouth, snarling as it ran him down, opening its jaws wide to swallow him whole…

“Mother!”

The boy’s shriek penetrated the silence as he sat bolt upright in bed, panting and shaking with terror. The fear surged through Pitch, the power it brought him washing over his being like a tremendous wave cascading upon parched earth. He felt renewed, reinvigorated, and he reveled in it…but only for a moment. As strong as this brat’s terror was, the power he gleaned from it was fleeting. That wonderful wave pulled away from him just as quickly as it had come, leaving him empty and thirsting once more.

_One isn’t enough. It has to be many, or else I have to get one of these damned brats to believe in me._

Belief was by far the most potent of emotions, for the faith of just one child could sustain a spirit and prevent them from disappearing completely into the void. Pitch didn’t have to fear disappearing, he didn’t have to fear anything; he _was_ fear, he _was_ the void, he was darkness and every terrifying thing that it concealed. So rather than feeling scared now that he was forgotten, he was filled instead with hatred and bitter envy. He _loathed_ the fact that none of these brats believed in him anymore. It had been so long since one of them had gazed upon him with awe and trembling and screams of terror that he’d all but forgotten what it was like to be regarded in such a manner. He had once been the infamous, all-powerful Nightmare King, but now these stupid humans regarded him as nothing more than a passing bad dream and the spirit world in turn mocked him as a disgusting thing better off forgotten and turned their backs to him.

He scoffed at the thought. He didn’t need them. He didn’t need _any_ spirit. What he needed was fear, what he wanted was _belief._ That was all he wanted…it wasn’t like he was asking for much. Yet no matter how many times he touched those dreams or how often he caused children to cry out in terror, not one of them ever glanced his way. Even this brat here, wide awake in bed after being terrified by Pitch’s beautiful nightmare, was starting to calm down now that he could hear his mother’s footsteps coming down the hall. Pitch wanted to strangle him, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to scream at him to look, just _look_ and _see_ _me_!

_I’d give anything to have him look at me and see me._

But he couldn’t see. Pitch was standing not two feet away and yet the brat didn’t spare him a single glance. It was the clearest sign of just how pathetic the Boogeyman had become, and he felt a sharp stab of pain sliced clean through him. 

_It’s all that Man in the Moon’s fault,_ he thought angrily. _He couldn’t let things be, just couldn’t let_ me _be. Now he and his precious Guardians are the ones with everything while I skulk about in the shadows clutching to the little bit of fear that still remains._

He glared at the child, who wasn’t paying him one bit of attention. Enormous brown eyes remained fixed upon the door until it pushed open with a soft creak and a middle-aged woman shuffled her way in.

“What is it, Thomas?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

“There was a dog!” he yelled animatedly, his wide eyes reflecting the flickering glow of his mother’s candle. “There was a _huge_ dog chasing me!”

“It was just a bad dream, Thomas.” The woman walked right past Pitch to sit next to her son on the bed. “I told you not to listen to your brother’s ridiculous stories right before bed.”

Pitch snorted. “As if a mere _story_ could ever cause such a thing.”

But, of course, neither the boy nor his mother could hear him.

“I saw it, mother, I _saw_ it!” Thomas insisted.

“Why of _course_ you did,” Pitch said with a leer. “That’s because my nightmares are quite good.”

“Not good enough, apparently.”

Pitch nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, hands jerking up to summon his scythe so he could teach that wretched spirit a lesson about sneaking up on him. But when he saw exactly who it was, he stopped himself just in time.

_Starfire._

His mouth curled with a mixture of disgust and contempt. Although he’d never seen or met her before, Pitch recognized her instantly. Stories abounded about the Sun Woman’s daughter, and it wasn’t as if anyone could ever mistake that wild red hair as belonging to anyone else. Besides, even the daftest of spirits would recognize the power she wore about herself like a second skin; only the child of a star spirit could possess that much raw strength and manage to keep the white flame atop her staff burning bright in spite of the fact that she wasn’t a true fire spirit.

Starfire was sitting casually at the brat’s window looking overwhelmingly bored. One bare foot rested on the sill as she leaned against the rugged frame, the other dangling over the edge to brush against the uneven wooden floor. Her staff was propped against one shoulder, the white fire at its top casting an eerie glow against the stark blackness behind the windowpanes.

Lowering his hands, Pitch made an angry sound. “What are you doing here?” He knew that he looked and sounded more than annoyed with her for intruding, which could only be construed as insolence, but he didn’t care. _She better not be spying on me for that damn Sun Woman, or I’ll—_

“Watching,” she replied simply.

“Why? So you can make fun of me? Mock me for being invisible?”

She stared at him, her face oddly expressionless. “Does it look like they can see me?”

Pitch glanced around at the human woman and her child, who were both acting as if they were completely unaware of the conversation taking place just a few feet away. The brat was still trying to convince his mother that his dream had been real and the exhausted woman was arguing with him to go back to sleep, that there wasn’t anything to be scared of.

 _That’s right,_ he remembered. _Humans don’t believe in her. They never have…_

The thought left him feeling a bit smug. He may be pathetic now compared to how he was a hundred or so years ago, but that was still better than never being believed in at all.

_Even in this state I’m far better than that Woman’s daughter, and I’m sure they both know it._

But even with that proud thought lingering about his head he couldn’t shake the annoyance he felt at being interrupted.

“Whatever,” Pitch grumbled, turning his back on Starfire. “Just leave me alone.”

“You have to adapt, you know.”

“What?”

“Humans evolve just like any other animal. In order to keep up, spirits have to adapt with them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pitch snapped, bristling. It took every ounce of will he possessed to keep from strangling her, that was how angry she’d made him. “Are you suggesting that I’m not good enough? That I— _I,_ Pitch Black the Nightmare King—am not good enough anymore?!”

His voice had risen to nearly a shout by the time she was through, and yet Starfire appeared completely unaffected by Pitch’s growing rage. He couldn’t sense fear from her at all, which was highly unusual. Every spirit had _something_ that they feared—he knew because he could always tell. But as he stood there glowering at her, chest heaving with each sharp breath, she didn’t so much as blink at his intimidating presence. That unfazed stare prompted him to reach out with his power and actively search for some trace of fear that he could wield against her and make her go away.

To his immense shock, there was nothing. Not a single trace of fear inside of her at all.

He couldn’t understand that. Even the Guardians feared _something_ , and that something was him _._ Well…him and being forgotten, but those two things went hand-in-hand for those five morons. How could it be that Starfire feared nothing when even the Man in the Moon’s hand-picked spirits had something to be afraid of?

Pitch knew from experience that the only ones who were truly fearless were those too stupid to know any better or those who had already experienced such tremendous pain and fear and helplessness that nothing shook them anymore. He knew Starfire wasn’t a fool…so was it her power alone that made her so bold or were there grave secrets hidden behind those green eyes that allowed her to face his wrath without a flinch?

He had to admit, he was incredibly curious.

“I’m only suggesting that you change your tactics because the old ways obviously aren’t working,” she said simply.

“What do you know about causing fear?” Pitch snarled. When Starfire didn’t reply, he smirked contemptuously. “That’s what I thought.” He turned his back on her. “Go play with your bushes and leave me to my own business.”

His attention returned to the human child, who had been tucked back into bed by his mother and was left alone again. The boy whimpered under the covers but seemed determined to be brave as his mother had instructed him. Pitch knew that if he waited long enough the brat would drift off to sleep again and the yellow dream sand would return.

_Maybe if I touch it again the brat will believe this time._

Persistence had a tendency to pay off, didn’t it? Persistence and patience.

A rustling near his feet caused him to stiffen and he whipped his head around to see what had caused it. His golden eyes widened when he spotted a long green tendril slithering across the room like some twisted botanical serpent towards the boy’s bed. Pitch followed it back to the source and realized that Starfire had touched the butt of her staff to a flowerpot sitting under the window near her dangling foot. He didn’t know what sort of plant was _supposed_ to be growing there (he simply didn’t care about green things), but whatever she was sprouting from that soil was growing longer and thicker as it snuck through the darkness and disappeared into the bedcovers.

_What the—?_

The brat suddenly gasped and sat bolt upright in bed. Pitch pulled back a little, startled by the sudden reaction. The blankets near the foot of the bed were wriggling as Starfire’s growing vine coiled rapidly around the child’s ankle.

“ _MOTHER_!!!!”

His scream was almost deafening and Pitch felt another swell of power. The brat still couldn’t see him, but it was wonderful nonetheless. The human woman was soon back again, though in no greater hurry than before. Upon seeing her son cowering in bed, the blankets shoved to the floor after his desperate attempts to locate the thing that had grabbed him, she sighed heavily.

“Really, Thomas, now enough is en—”

She broke off with an ear-splitting shriek as a massive green monster suddenly dropped down from the ceiling right in front of her face. Even Pitch was taken aback by the creature’s unexpected arrival, for he had been so focused on the boy that he hadn’t noticed the vine Starfire must’ve shaped in secrecy above his head. The strange botanical creature opened its mouth wide, its white eyes flashing sinisterly in the darkness as they fixed upon the woman. It emitted a horrid groan, like the noise a massive tree made as it slowly toppled over only much, much louder.

Combined with the shock and the dark, the sound was absolutely terrifying.

And Pitch loved every second of it.

Both mother and child fled the room in a fit of terror, their spectacular screams waking the entire household.

The whole thing was so ridiculously wonderful that Pitch stumbled back into his shadows without meaning to. He wound up in the empty street outside, the raised voices and howling cries of that child’s terror still clearly audible through the thin wooden walls of their pathetic shanty. Standing there in the dark, the Nightmare King doubled over as he howled with laughter. He laughed and laughed until his belly hurt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard.

“Oh, that was good,” he chuckled as he caught his breath. He looked down at his hands. “I haven’t tasted adult fear in a long time,” he mused softly, flexing his fingers. Then he grinned wickedly. “I’d forgotten how delightful it was!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Starfire. She was leaning back against the wall of that shanty, half-hidden in the darkness as she watched him with those strange impassive eyes. His tone instantly changed from delighted to dismissive as he stated, “Is that all, then? You’ve had your fun now, so go away.”

He made a shooing gesture with his hand. When she didn’t move an inch, he growled low in his throat and slipped into the shadows, leaving her alone in that horrid shantytown.

**Ireland, 1680**

“Don’t you have anyone else to bother?” Pitched asked in a clipped voice. He marched across the square towards Starfire, who was sitting up on a porch roof with her naked feet dangling right in some poor Irishman’s face. The sun had vanished behind the horizon but the moon had yet to rise, and there were still plenty of humans out and about trying to make the most of the cool evening air. Those brats laughed merrily as they played in the flickering lamplight, the sound grating on Pitch’s ears as he stormed past them. It the perfect time to start scaring people, but it was impossible to concentrate when he was being vexed by a relentless stalker.

 _This is getting ridiculous! Why_ _won’t she take a hint?!_

Stopping right beneath her, Pitch stood glaring up at the flora spirit. “Really, it was annoying the first time and that was decades ago! Don’t you have someone else you can bother?!”

It had been more than half a century since she’d first dropped in on him and that infuriating spirit just kept showing up wherever he was, making it incredibly hard for him to perform his duties. She kept her distance and didn’t say anything most of the time, but even then he found her observance of him extremely off-putting.

_Either that Sun Woman is more tenacious than I thought or there’s something very wrong with her daughter’s head!_

Starfire opened her mouth, but if Pitch was hoping for acquiescence or some sort of revelation as to her motives, he was sorely disappointed.

“You’re not boring,” was all the explanation she gave him.

With a frustrated snarl, Pitch threw his hands into the air and marched away. “Leave me alone!” he barked over his shoulder, hoping she got the message this time.

His furious exit was marred, however, by the fact that a giggling child escaping her friend’s outstretched hands ran right through him. Pitch flinched visibly and clutched at his stomach and chest as if the momentary contact had hurt him. It hadn’t really hurt…not physically anyway. But it was both disheartening and exceedingly degrading for humans walk right through a spirit as if he wasn’t there.

Distracted by what had just happened, his head turned to follow the child with his gaze, his face contorting with anguish before he could censor it.

 _It’s still not enough. Nearly two hundred years now and I_ still _can’t get them to believe in me._

He became acutely aware of Starfire still quietly observing him, and that pain rapidly transformed into fury.

“Is that what you wanted?!” he shouted at her. “Are you satisfied now, or do you need more to stave your boredom?!”

That she could find amusement in his misery infuriated him beyond words. There was so much more he wanted to say to her (not the least of which was to inform her precisely where she could shove her so-called boredom), but his throat constricted and his jaw tightened almost to the point of pain as the rage coursed through him. So instead of showering her with harsh words, he spun on his heel and marched away. Such was the extent of his fury that he didn’t even think of the fact that he could’ve evaded her easily by disappearing into the shadows, just as he had so many times before.

He stormed out of the village towards the nearby forest, hoping that the quiet and the gloom would help calm the hot fire in his blood. It wasn’t until he was almost to the trees that the Nightmare King realized Starfire was silently tailing after him.

“Leave me alone!” he yelled without looking at her. _Why won’t she leave me be?!_

She didn’t answer, and Pitch’s face pinched with anger. Then an idea came to him that caused him to smirk. With a wave of his hand he summoned a Nightmare. He still wasn’t very good at shaping these black sand-creatures yet, but even so he was quite proud of them. Corrupting Sandman’s dreams and shaping them into something more than a simple nightmare was no easy feat, especially in his weakened state.

_I wonder if she’s shocked at how much power I wield even in this form._

Glancing back at her, though, he was sorely disappointed to see that her expression hadn’t shifted one bit at the sight of his beautiful creation.

_Well, whatever. It’s not like I needed her approval anyway._

Mounting swiftly, Pitch told Starfire, “So long, pest!” and pulled sharply on the reins to send the Nightmare into a gallop. Within moments he was swallowed by the thick forest and the Sun Woman’s daughter was left in the dust.

 _Good riddance,_ he thought triumphantly.

Then he heard the pounding of hooves.

As his Nightmare continued swiftly along, darting nimbly between the trees, Pitch turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Golden eyes went wide as he spotted Starfire racing after him on what could only be described as a botanical mare. It looked nothing like his Nightmare at all, and yet it was somehow oddly similar. Maybe it was those eyes, white instead of yellow but just as fierce.

He couldn’t help but feel a little indignant at the sight of it. _Copycat!_

But then his attention was arrested by Starfire’s expression, and the sight of it thrust all angry thoughts from his mind as he felt a flash of excitement course through him. That was a look that could only be described as wicked determination, for her grin was so delightfully evil it was almost a leer. She bent low over her mare’s neck as she charged after him, thick red curls flying wildly about her head like wind-battered fire.

Pitch took that expression as a challenge and spurred his Nightmare on with his heels. With a scream the mare went faster, but Starfire’s flora-mare soon caught up with them and they were racing side-by-side. Glancing at her again, Pitch saw the smug curl to her mouth and glared.

_Why that little—!_

With a flick of the wrist he summoned a whip of black sand and lashed out. The long coil caught the flora-mare around the neck and, with one deft pull, tore the creature’s head from its body. The beast collapsed and Starfire tumbled to the ground.

The Nightmare King laughed wickedly, certain he had won, until mid-chortle he cried out a shocked “Ah!” as a vine sprung from the earth right underneath his Nightmare and caught it about the legs. It tripped midstride and landed face-first on the ground, the force of its fall turning it back into sand. The momentum literally threw Pitch through the air so that he bounced ridiculously off of dirt and trees, shouting with shock and pain as he went.

_Well…this is humiliating…_

When he finally tumbled to a stop, Pitch shook leaf litter from his hair and lifted his head just in time to see Starfire streak past on a new flora-mare. Her taunting laughter lingered in the night air as she disappeared into the trees and his mouth sagged open a little as he watched her go, momentarily stunned by her audacity.

Then his lips curled into a positively cunning smile.

 _If_ that’s _how you want it..._

Within seconds his Nightmare was reformed and he was tearing after her with renewed determination.

The pair of them must’ve made quite a sight, darting between trees on their mares swinging at each other with whips and scythes and branches and whatever else they could conjure up while literally on the run. Pitch didn’t even care where they were going anymore, and Starfire didn’t seem to either. They were both too focused on forcing the other to admit defeat even though it was exceedingly obvious that they were far too stubborn to ever do such a thing. Perhaps that was why, with each passing mile, their tactics became dirtier and dirtier as each spirit struggled to gain the upper hand over the other. Pitch definitely started it, for cheating certainly wasn’t beneath _him,_ and he was positively thrilled by the fact that she didn’t hesitate to stoop to his level. Rather than grow angry with him for swinging right at her face with his whip, she merely reacted by blowing a sharp breath across the head of her staff, causing a white flame to burst forth and singe Pitch’s eyebrows as he leaned back quickly to avoid getting scalded. Then, just as he opened his mouth to mock her for missing, he had to duck a thorn-covered branch that swept through the air right where his head had been. Her craftiness amused him, and there were definite undertones of delight building in their mocking laughter.

Without warning or reason Starfire suddenly pulled away from the fight and disappeared into the trees. Believing victory was his, Pitch laughed loudly as he directed the Nightmare to take him up into the sky. He rode all the way back to the entrance of his realm, and when he arrived he dismounted and dismissed the mare. He chuckled to himself as he straightened his robe, proud and pleased with his success. Then he glanced up and jumped back with a yelp of surprise when he saw that Starfire was already there. She was leaning against the rickety old bed that stood guard over his front door, twirling her staff through the air with casual ease as if she’d been left waiting for a long time.

Pitch stared at her, flabbergasted, as she dropped the staff back to the ground so that it rested in her hand. She smirked at him.

“I win.”

“How—how did you…” He spluttered nonsensically for a moment before piercing her with an accusing glare. “You tricked me!”

She poked out her bottom lip in a mocking pout. “I’ve had centuries to perfect my mare. Another hundred years or so and maybe yours will actually be competition.”

While he struggled to be coherent through his growing rage, her expression lifted into a genuine smile.

“See?”

“See _what_?” he snapped, angry with her for beating him and insulting his Nightmare.

“You’re not boring.”

With that said she flicked her staff and disappeared into a whirlwind of vines and thorns that carried her swiftly away.

Pitch’s anger died in an instant and he turned to watch her go, stunned and a little confused by her words. But there was something else as well, something he couldn’t quite put a name to, something warm and even a bit comforting.

_Huh._

**India, 1710**

After that race through the woods Pitch gave up rather quickly in his attempts to get Starfire to leave him be. He’d learned by then that she was just as stubborn as he was and found it easier to just accept her presence whenever she had the mind to hang around.

Her reputation for being a wanderer proved to be quite accurate, for she came and went completely as she pleased, turning up wherever the Boogeyman happened to be that night and leaving again whenever it suited her. Sometimes she stayed away for years, other times it was only a matter of months before he spotted her again, silently observing from a nearby window or rooftop as he transformed yellow sand into terrible dreams that made children shriek. Keeping out of his way when he was busy made it easier for Pitch to tolerate her company, though from time-to-time when he was feeling particularly frustrated or bored he _did_ allow her to assist him in terrorizing whatever populace happened to be hosting his presence for the night. As their first meeting had indicated, Starfire proved to be surprisingly creative when it came to scaring people, and had to admit that he found her uncharacteristic ability to frighten even grown adults both highly amusing and wonderfully exhilarating.

Still, he was very careful not to let her go too far; his pride as a spirit and as a man dictated that he do the majority of the scaring himself.

Once he’d given in and grudgingly accepted her company, Pitch discovered he didn’t mind Starfire quite as much as he once thought he did. It was a little awkward in the beginning, having a spirit follow him around like a second shadow, but he soon grew used to her presence and even came to enjoy it once he got her to open up a little. She was extremely guarded, that flora spirit, though with some prompting and a great deal of patience she eventually let go a bit and started talking to him. Real conversations, not those ridiculous one or two liners she always used to spout that aggravated him beyond belief.

They didn’t speak of anything important at first, just casual comments or noncommittal remarks about this and that, but over time meaningless conversations developed into something more…although it didn’t escape Pitch’s notice that Starfire remained very reluctant to talk about anything personal. He eventually joined her in her rather unconventional habit of sitting on rooftops, and as they chatted away the nighttime hours they’d break occasionally to mock an unsuspecting human that happened to pass by on the street below. Their distaste for humans and children in particular seemed to be one of the few things they had in common, and yet they never ran out of topics for conversation. Being older spirits, they’d already seen and experienced much of what the world had to offer, but as Pitch soon discovered they were so very different in terms of who and _what_ they were that oftentimes one was wholly ignorant of things with which the other was familiar. He couldn’t tell for sure what Starfire was thinking when he shared his exclusive knowledge and accomplishments with her (okay, yes, he bragged a bit, but he just couldn’t help himself; how often did he get to enlighten a spirit that was older than him on the ways of terror and shadow?), but for his part he rather enjoyed it when she spoke of unfamiliar things. Despite what others thought of him, he actually _did_ possess the capacity to take genuine interest in things besides himself…though admittedly there wasn’t a great deal that could hold his attention for very long. He didn’t know why, but many of the things others found fascinating he regarded either with disinterest or outright boredom.

Starfire, it would seem, was of a similar mind in that respect. When she answered his questions her voice rarely shifted out of its usual impassive tone, betraying her apathy for such things. Even so, Pitch hung on to every word. For rather than growing bored with her stories, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that the flora spirit was actually quite adept at maintaining his attention. It turned out there were many, _many_ things she had to talk about that were in no way related to her duties, for she was remarkably well-traveled, even for a spirit. Apparently Starfire had visited nearly all of the spirit realms at some point or another, whereas he had hardly been to any of them at all.

_And the only ones I’ve seen I either forced or snuck my way into._

He never said that aloud, but he didn’t think he had to. It was pretty common knowledge that he wasn’t the most welcome of spirits, and becoming the esteemed Guardians’ sworn enemy had only served to make others even warier of him.

When he’d first learned about her extensive knowledge of those realms, Pitch could barely contain his excitement.

 _The more you know about your enemies, the stronger you are,_ he’d thought with cruel delight.

With heart and mind filled with wicked intent, he’d requested (as innocently as possible) that she describe those places for him. Being far less protective of others’ privacy than she was her own, Starfire had readily complied. She told him everything he wanted to know and more, describing it all in rather vivid detail.

 _She’s got a good memory,_ he’d noted, forcing back the smirk that had threatened to bloom across his face and betray his ulterior motives. 

His glee had withered, however, when he got to know Starfire better and realized the truth about why she had told him so much. He hadn’t tricked her at all; she’d known precisely what he was up to by asking. She simply hadn’t cared. It seemed she held just as much disgust and contempt for the rest of the spirit world as he did.

_Interesting…_

One night found them both sitting on the steeply inclined roof of some human temple, gazing out into the star-studded sky. It was a new moon; his old friend was blind to what was going on down below, and Pitch preferred it that way. It was bad enough the Sun Woman always kept a watchful eye out for him, he didn’t need any other spirit being in his business.

Their idle chatter eventually turned to the night when the two of them had first met, when she’d sat at that brat’s window watching as Pitch try to scare him into believing.

“What were you doing out in the middle of the night anyway?” he asked her. That particular mystery had always bothered him, for even after all this time he still couldn’t figure out the real reason she had first approached him.

Or why she continued to hang around.

“Am I not allowed to go out at night?” Starfire responded with a sly smile.

“You know what I mean,” Pitch retorted, huffing a bit. “You’re the Sun Woman’s daughter and a spirit of life. Whatever reason would you have for wandering around in the middle of the night?”

Her smile widened, though her attention remained fixed on the sky. “You’d be surprised.”

He snorted. She glanced over him.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Does it look like I do?”

She studied his face for a moment as if seriously considering her response to what was obviously a rhetorical question instead of addressing the real problem. After a prolonged silence he grew impatient. “Well?”

She sighed and looked away again. “Darkness is actually quite conducive for plant life.”

His response came promptly. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.”

“I don’t believe it.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze squarely. “It’s true.”

Her tone and her expression were both so adamant that Pitch’s conviction wavered a bit. He cleared his throat awkwardly before his stubbornness kicked in again. “Prove it.”

It was clearly a dare, and Starfire took it as such.

“All right.” She stood abruptly. “Come,” she commanded, and stepped down from the roof.

He sank into the shadows and followed after her as she was carried swiftly across the land by her swirling vortex of vines and thorns. She didn’t stop until they were somewhere far from the temple, and Pitch emerged from the shadows with skepticism written all over his face. It looked like they were standing on the side of a mountain, and he couldn’t imagine what the flora spirit could possibly prove by bringing him there. There weren’t any trees or bushes or really _anything_ of note as far as he could see, just some grass and a bunch of scattered rocks.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he complained as Starfire dismissed her plants, but rather than grow frustrated or angry with him over his lack of faith she just pointed at the ground.

“Look.”

Pitch dutifully lowered his head to see what the flora spirit was pointing at. When he saw it nestled between the rocks his eyes went wide and he bent down to get a closer look.

“Is that…”

“It’s a moonflower,” Starfire told him. He continued to stare at it as she explained, “Humans in this region call it Brahma Kamal after some god. It blooms only at night, and the flower will wither and die by sunrise.”

“So…so this is the only time it’ll blossom?”

“Yes. At least for this year.” She watched him in silence for a moment. “There are many other moonflowers scattered across the globe, though not all are as big or as quick to shed their petals as this one. While I _do_ complete most of my work by daylight, I cannot neglect those that chose the quiet and calm of darkness in which to bloom.”

He knew she didn’t mean anything by saying such a thing. She was just pointing out the facts exactly as they were. But even so, he felt something twist inside his gut.

_What…was that?_

He couldn’t say. He didn’t have the faintest idea what it was he had felt in that moment, only that it was somewhat overwhelming and yet also very, very right. He couldn’t have looked away from that moonflower even if he wanted to, and Pitch eventually reached out with tentative fingers to gently cup the delicate blossom in his hands.

While the Nightmare King found his shadows and the darkness of night to be quite beautiful, he’d started to believe that the only reason he thought so was because of who and what he was. After all, there were plenty of other spirits who operated by night but none of _them_ coexisted with darkness in quite the same way that he did. They were the ones who made nighttime lovely and enjoyable and sweet, whereas Pitch represented all the horrid things that crept around in the shadows and twisted what everyone else found beautiful and wondrous into something terrible and frightening. Darkness on its own was simply incapable of creating beautiful things—that’s what those other spirits thought, and that was why they did their utmost to _force_ it into something they considered beautiful and acceptable. They bent darkness to their will with their yellow dream sand, little fairies that left coins under pillows or sleighs full of presents, rather than allowing it to just _be_. Even humans were gradually falling into that trap, lighting every street and window with blinding lamps and telling each other sweet stories before bed to help ward off his glorious nightmares. Thanks to the Guardians and their stupid petty tricks, good things always seemed to happen at night, things that children loved and believed in and took comfort from and that fellow spirits regarded with awe and appreciation. Nobody cared anymore to see the raw, natural beauty of unaltered night.

Nobody except Pitch.

For a long time he’d felt as if he was the only one who truly understood what darkness was meant to be and accepted it as it was, wholly and unconditionally. He worked _with_ it rather than around it, but that only served to push him further and further away from everyone and everything else that existed in the world. And after centuries of being scorned and spurned by spirits and humans alike, he’d started to forget what it was like to be treated as something more than the shadow that skulked under the bed at night. Like the moonflower he now held in his hands, he thrived in the very darkness that the rest of the world had either forcibly reshaped or outright rejected, but that didn’t mean he was any less important or somehow unworthy because of it. Pride and contempt had kept him stubbornly marching on, and yet (though he would never _ever_ admit to it), Pitch had started to crumble under the weight of constant rejection and loneliness and the sense of unimportance that came with being forgotten. Starfire’s company had granted him some relief from that pain, but he’d been loath to rely too heavily upon it lest he discover that it was all part of some twisted plan she and her mother had cooked up together. He wouldn’t have been able to take such a betrayal.

But the flora spirit’s words just now had inadvertently confirmed what he’d begun to suspect yet had been stubbornly unwilling to accept, and that was the fact that Lilliana Starfire, the Sun Woman’s daughter, genuinely believed him to be something more than just an unfortunate necessity. Whatever reasons she might have had for approaching him nearly a century ago, he knew now that they were innocent.

And he found that he was both relieved and incredibly grateful to her for it.

“Thank you,” he said softly, unable to think of anything else to say in that moment that even came close to properly conveying how he felt.

Starfire made a dismissive sound between her lips. “It’s just a flower.”

But it wasn’t just a flower. Not to him. To Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, it was something far, far more than just a flower.

It was a symbol of acceptance.


	10. Memories, Part II

**North America, 1718**

In spite of the fact that neither of them spoke of the incident on the mountain ever again, Pitch could sense that something between them had changed tremendously in the wake of that event. The two of them met far more often, for one thing, almost on a monthly basis, and the Nightmare King began taking Starfire to some of his favorite spots just as she continued to show him the different moonflowers. He’d insisted on seeing them all for himself, though the Brahma Kamal remained his favorite by far. He never told Starfire about it, but he actually went back to the mountain on his own one year after being struck with the urge to see them again. To his great disappointment, he couldn’t find any no matter how hard he searched, and as he was too proud to ask Starfire for help he reluctantly gave up and never repeated the attempt.

Something else that changed besides the frequency of their visits was the atmosphere whenever they were together. The last lingering remnants of tension had dissipated along with the implicit threat of violence should one of them become aggravated, and as a result they became quite comfortable being in each other’s presence. They got on each other’s nerves on occasion and even argued from time to time, but the fights never lasted long as they always made up with one another somehow. Neither of them ever apologized, for they were both far too proud to stoop for such a thing, but Pitch found that she wasn’t expecting him to do that anymore than he was her. It was a mark of just how well they understood each other that they were able to come to terms without having to express themselves through words. Pitch had never experienced such a thing before, and he found it both incredibly wonderful and extremely peculiar.

They continued to talk about a great many things, but Starfire still held back from discussing anything personal. As desperate as he was to know more about her, Pitch found that he couldn’t blame her for maintaining her silence. Some things were just better left unsaid…like aspects of his own murky past. While he regretted nothing and was, in fact, rather proud of most of it, he knew there were quite a number of things that would be considered downright detestable by anyone who wasn’t the Nightmare King. He didn’t think Starfire would appreciate being put into a position where she felt obliged to reciprocate in the telling of unpleasant stories when she obviously didn’t want to, therefore he was incredibly careful to keep the nastier details of his existence to himself. Had she been any other spirit he would’ve found some way to force or coerce the truth out of her, either through scheming or pretty lies or some other devious means, but she wasn’t just any other spirit. He couldn’t explain why, for it was nothing that was ever explicitly discussed between them, but Pitch just couldn’t bring himself to cross whatever boundaries he believed Starfire had set for him. Maybe it was because she didn’t cross any of the ones he set for her, and so he felt it would be in poor taste for him to not show her the same courtesy.

Maybe…he just didn’t know.

His thoughts were always so jumbled whenever he was with her. She was so confusing and yet so very interesting that he couldn’t decide whether she irritated or intrigued him more. They were complete opposites and her mother was his greatest enemy, yet she didn’t judge him for being weak or mock him for being invisible. She never brought up those things, not even by way of idle curiosity, and he was immensely grateful for it. She didn’t question his judgment in anything, either, for unlike virtually every other spirit in existence Starfire actually trusted his word. That bothered him a little, for he’d never had anyone put such faith in him before (not that he’d ever given anyone a reason to, being such a practiced manipulator and an excellent liar, but that was beside the point). The reality of it was that he simply didn’t know how to deal with someone who so readily accepted whatever he said and yet wasn’t a gullible idiot, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how far that trust went.

So he pushed aside any reservations he felt and tested her one night, spinning an obvious lie with his silver tongue and watching closely to see what sort of reaction she’d have.

The trouble was, as soon as the words left his mouth he felt unspeakably guilty, which didn’t make any sense because he’d never felt a qualm about lying before. As he pondered it, he suddenly realized that he’d never lied so blatantly to Starfire before. Twisted the truth a little, yes, spun particular events more to his favor, of course…but never such outright deception. He hadn’t even realized until that moment just how honest he’d been with her, and recognizing it then only made him feel worse for not accepting her trust in good faith.

But since the words had already been spoken he couldn’t take them back. Pitch had committed himself to the test and so he resigned himself to see it through, though he secretly hoped that it didn’t spoil things between them. The last thing he’d wanted by doing this was to ruin the friendship they’d built over the past several decades.

Carefully schooling his features before she could detect his remorse, he held his breath and awaited her response.

In the end, her reaction left him feeling both relieved and incredibly confused. She’d raised one slim eyebrow and pursed her lips together as if smothering a smirk, but apart from that she carried on with the conversation as if nothing had happened. It was clear that she hadn’t believed him for an instant, so then _why_ hadn’t she called him out on it?! Normally spirits would get upset or angry for being lied to like that, right?

_Had she known that I was testing her and that was why it hadn’t bother her?_

He never learned for sure, but whatever the reason was he found after that night that he simply couldn’t bring himself to lie to her anymore.

Pitch’s affinity for manipulation wasn’t completely lost in her presence, though, and it soon morphed into teasing as he discovered that it was deeply amusing to mess with her. He found himself anticipating her reactions and started playing a mental game with himself, trying to guess beforehand whether his playful actions and goading words would cause her to laugh, lift her brows, roll her eyes, or spit fiery words at him. Once he even managed to evoke all four reactions, plus one he hadn’t quite anticipated. She’d raised her brows first, and rolled her eyes moments after. He kept prodding, laughing wickedly on the inside as he watched her face darken with agitation in spite of her best efforts to ignore him. When she was good and riled up she finally lost her patience and snapped at him, but right when he pointed rudely and started to laugh at her for failing his little game he inexplicably found himself hanging upside-down by his ankles, bound from neck to toes by thick vines.

_Dammit, Starfire._

_Then_ she laughed, only she was laughing at his rather undignified predicament rather than at what’d he’d done to her. He wanted to be angry with her, but as hard as he tried he just couldn’t summon the fury. Instead he said with a lopsided grin, “I suppose I deserved that one.”

Even after that confession, though, it took quite a bit of persuading to convince her to let him down. As he straightened his robe and smoothed back his hair, rather than feeling humiliated or annoyed at being made into a spectacle like that he actually found himself chuckling.

_So she can give as good as she takes. I’ll have to remember that._

Unfortunately, there was one instance when he took his games a little too far. They were sitting under a tree on some mountaintop not far from his home when Pitch happened to bring up the Sun Woman by way of some offhanded comment. Starfire stiffened at the very mention of her mother, and Pitch, mistaking her reaction for aggravation, grinned slyly.

“What?” he asked in a teasing tone. “Are you going to ask her to smite me now?”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Starfire snapped, and Pitch winced at the venom in her words.

Uncertain as to what to say since he didn’t really understand what had upset her in the first place, Pitch decided that a noncommittal remark would be the best response.

“As if I care about that conceited woman,” he grumbled, swatting away a firefly that had the misfortune of buzzing too close to his face.

An awkward silence fell between them as they stared off in different directions. Pitch occupied himself by picking out the constellations, which were clearly visible due to the noticeable lack of moonlight. He and Starfire only met when Manny wasn’t around, either during the new moon or when the sky was covered in a thick blanket clouds that blocked the moon’s view of the world below. It was a good thing they did; Pitch would’ve hated for his old friend to bear witness to his awkward stumbling through this unconventional relationship with Starfire.

 _He’d probably understand this woman better than I ever could,_ he thought moodily. _I just don’t_ get _her sometimes…_

Starfire sighed suddenly, drawing his attention back to her even though he kept his gaze stubbornly fixed on the stars. The Sun Woman’s daughter lowered her gaze to the ground and scratched at her thick curls, looking rather uncomfortable.

“It’s not anything you did,” she began, her voice sounding a bit strained as if she didn’t really know what to say. “I just don’t like talking about her.”

 _Is she apologizing without apologizing_? Pitch wondered, and felt the corner of his mouth twitch. _That’s just like her._

She prodded the ground with the butt of her staff, and a tiny little wildflower sprouted in that very place. After another moment of silence she turned unexpectedly to stare right at him. “You’ve obviously heard all about how I came to be born.”

It wasn’t a question, and Pitch didn’t take it as one, but the suddenness of that statement prompted him to meet her unwavering green stare.

“I served my purpose and that was that. After that she couldn’t be bothered with me.” The flora spirit’s eyes were cold and hard as if steeling herself against the pain the memory brought her. “I get she’s busy and all, seeing as how the sun never sleeps, but you’d think she’d spare _some_ thought for her own kid. In the twenty-nine years I stayed at the Palace, I only ever saw her twice.”

Pitch was taken aback by the revelation, but it was so rare for Starfire to be open like this that he kept his mouth firmly closed and just let her speak her mind.

“Even after I left she didn’t care about what I did or where I went, as long as I didn’t do or say anything that might embarrass her.” She pulled a face. “That’s all that ever mattered to her when it came to me: doing my duties properly and keeping up appearances for _her_ sake. Most of the time it felt like I didn’t even exist.”

Pitch didn’t know what shocked him more—that Starfire was being so very open about a personal matter seemingly out of the blue or the incredibly depressing nature of what she’d just revealed. He’d always been under the impression that the Sun Woman was an incredibly loving parent, if occasionally overbearing, and nothing any other spirit had ever said about the star spirit had altered that perception. They did nothing but sing praises about the Sun Woman, especially when it came to her handling of the “peculiar” and “rebellious” daughter she’d birthed. Yet based upon what Starfire had just told him, it seemed like there was far more to the story than anyone else knew.

It would seem the truth of it was that the Sun Woman only took interest in her child’s life when it suited _her,_ which didn’t appear to be that often at all.

_I always knew they weren’t close but this…this seems serious._

Having no experience with family or relationships in general apart from occasionally observing such dynamics within his human prey, Pitch didn’t really know how to respond.

 _Is this why she didn’t want to talk about it before?_ he wondered. _Because she’s bitter and unhappy over how her mother had treated her?_

Then another thought occurred to him, one he hadn’t intended to touch in that moment and one he hadn’t considered at all in a long, long time: Starfire’s lack of fear. He remembered how he had touched her in search of fear and found nothing, and that it had stoked his curiosity at the time. Over the passing decades that curiosity had faded, though, as it had been pushed aside by far more pressing and interesting aspects of the flora spirit’s character.

But now as he looked into her cold green eyes, he couldn’t help but think: _Is that why she’s not afraid of anything? Because she’s been treated like an object by her own mother and so she believes her existence holds no real value?_

It was an unbelievably depressing thought, and Pitch found he didn’t want to dwell on it a second longer. He shoved it aside, burying it deep within his own head where he hoped it would never surface again. It wasn’t his place to judge Starfire like that, and the mere act of thinking about such a thing left him feeling unspeakably guilty and ashamed rather than enlightened or somehow empowered.

In his struggle to come up with something appropriate to say, Pitch ended up staring at Starfire for a long time with his mouth hanging open. When nothing came to mind, he closed it again and eventually just shrugged.

“Well, you’re better off I’d say,” he said in a tone that was purposefully casual. “Having the freedom to do as you please is always preferable to being stuck in a stuffy hot Palace all day long.”

He stood up and stretched, gazing up at the stars as he did so.

“You know,” he said suddenly, still studying the night sky, “I think I’m glad your mother’s such a prude.” He grinned down at Starfire’s shocked expression and explained, “If it weren’t for her leaving you alone growing up, you’d never have developed the confidence to challenge me.”

“Hey, now!” Starfire stuck a finger out at him in warning. “Even if I was a tiny little sprite I’d make a point of following you around just to aggravate you!”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I imagine you would!”

**North America, 1749**

Pitch didn’t know what possessed him to ask her, but asked her he had and to his great shock she’d actually agreed. Now he was standing there in his great room, staring at Starfire as she turned in slow circles gazing up at the stone ceiling high above her.

“Nice,” she said, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet. “It’s a lot bigger than I pictured it to be.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and tapped at it curiously with the butt of her staff. She commented, “So it really is true. Nothing grows down here at all.”

“Is that bad?” Pitch asked nervously. He didn’t know why, but he felt unspeakably anxious having her here in his home. He’d never invited anyone to his realm before, and he honestly didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know if she’d like it, considering how dark and enclosed and decayed it was compared to the forests she wandered, but what surprised him most was that he found himself _wanting_ her to like it.

_I’m acting like an idiot! Why should I care if she likes it or not?! If she doesn’t I can always blast her back to the outside and tell her never to come back!_

But even those harsh thoughts couldn’t quell the churning of his stomach. _Stop that!_

Her response to his question pulled him out of his ridiculous self-scolding. “Not bad, just strange. I’ve never been anywhere else in the world where there wasn’t anything green. Even parts of Antarctica bear vegetation for a few weeks out of the year.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t known that.

She tapped the floor again, almost like she was double-checking that there wasn’t anything there for her to grow. “I’d heard stories of it being like this,” she said softly, “but experiencing it firsthand is just so odd.”

“What does it feel like?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She must’ve expected him to ask, for his question didn’t surprise her.

“Sort of empty.” She thought about it for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe what she was feeling. “When I’m surrounded by green, I can hear it, like thousands of little voices whispering to me. Each species has its own language and each individual plant has its own unique voice, so depending on where in the world I am it can sound like a beautiful symphony or it can grate on my mind like a horde of screaming, demanding children.”

Pitch tried to stifle his snigger but failed, and the loud snort that resulted from his efforts caused Starfire to pull a face at him.

“It’s terrible! When they yell like that it can be really hard to think.” She turned her attention back to the darkness and the emptiness around them. “Here it’s just so quiet… It’s nice to be alone in my own head for a change, but I also feel sort of naked, like that integral part of me is sealed away behind a massive stone wall that I just can’t breach.”

She looked at him again, and her expression was unexpectedly serious. “Is that what it feels like to be forgotten?”

Pitch felt his jaw tighten. She’d never asked him about this before, and he’d been grateful because he didn’t like to speak of it. He’d once been the mighty and fearsome Nightmare King, after all, but his heyday was long past and now he wasn’t regarded as anything more than a passing fantasy, something that caused the floorboards under the bed to creak at night yet could neither be seen nor touched when children inevitably peered under there to see where the monsters were. To this day he was extremely bitter about his fall from power, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate or resent Starfire for questioning him about it. She wasn’t pressing him for answers, after all—he could easily refuse to answer if he so chose and he knew she wouldn’t push the matter if he did so. And she wasn’t being selfish in asking, either. Being born a spirit rather than made into one was an incredibly rare thing, and while such an esteemed position came with numerous perks, not counted among them was human belief. Having never had a human believe in her before, Starfire had no idea what it felt like to be forgotten so it was only natural that she would be curious about such a thing.

Besides, she was only asking him right now because she simply wanted a comparison to what she was feeling now without her green there to speak to her. It wasn’t like she was fishing for information about him.

It was for these reasons that Pitch ultimately decided to answer her question even though he really didn’t want to.

“No.” He stared off into the distant shadows, a solemn expression on his face. “Being forgotten…it’s like nothing else you could ever experience.”

He didn’t say anything more than that, and just like he knew she would Starfire didn’t push the matter. Instead she lifted her staff and gave it a bit of a twirl until it lay across her shoulder, one arm resting casually over its carved wooden body. She looked like she was about to say something when she suddenly gasped.

“Wow!”

As she darted across the room, Pitch turned to see what had caught her attention and smothered a laugh. His globe. It was situated on the far side of the room, up on a raised platform, and Starfire dashed up the stone steps to regard the black metal thing with open awe. 

“I’ve never seen one of these before!” She lifted a hand then stopped herself and glanced back at him. “Can I touch it?”

“Sure,” he said with an encouraging nod. He slipped into the shadows and reappeared beside her a moment later, watching closely as Starfire reached up to run her hand along the surface of the globe’s South American continent. He didn’t know why, but his attention was fixed on her fingers as they glided over the smooth surface. He actually had to shake himself out of it only to find his gaze shifting to her face. The tiny golden lights scattered across the globe illuminated her dark skin, giving it a soft golden glow.

“These are _all_ the children who believe?” she asked him as she studied Europe.

“Yes.” He was surprised he could even manage that one little word, as his mouth had suddenly gone dry. _There’s definitely something wrong with me tonight._

“There’s so many…” She scowled unexpectedly. “To think throwing presents at people gets you this much devotion.”

Pitched was stunned for a moment then he laughed heartily. “A little grudge against the Guardians, hmmm?”

“Not a grudge. I just don’t like how they lead whose brats around like dogs on a leash in order to keep their attention. If those whelps truly loved them and believed in them then those four idiots wouldn’t have to resort to bribing them with presents and coins to keep their faith alive. They’d keep believing whether the Guardians continued to leave gifts for them or not.”

Pitch waved a hand through the air. “Yes, well, humans are fickle creatures, children most of all.”

The conversation was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a Nightmare. It galloped into the room with a loud whinny, but Pitch wasn’t in the mood to hear whatever it was the creature had to say.

“Do you _mind_?” he snarled at the mare, causing it to flinch, but Starfire regarded it with approval.

“She looks much better than she did last time,” she noted.

Pitch didn’t bother covering his astonishment. “You recognize her?”

_How does she know this is the same mare I rode that night? I do my utmost to make them all the same and, besides, I’ve had lots of time to practice so the overall appearance is quite different than it was back then._

_Maybe she just guessed._

“It’s pretty obvious,” Starfire told him as the mare regarded her with suspicion. The creature was sticking close to her master’s side, clearly disapproving of a stranger’s presence in the realm.

“Obvious how?” he prompted.

“I heard the echoes of their calls when I first arrived, so I knew for sure that you’ve got more than one now. Though they probably sound the same to everyone except you, they actually have individual voices just like my plants do so I can tell which one is which. I can hear the different inflections, even if I can’t understand what they’re saying.”

The Nightmare lifted her head in shock then tilted it to one side as she studied Starfire with new consideration. The flora spirit smiled back and she asked Pitch, “Can I touch her?”

He cleared his throat to mask his surprise at the unexpected request. “If you want to.” He swiftly added, “They can smell fear you know.”

She smirked at him. “Does it look like I’m scared?”

No. No she didn’t. It amazed him, sometimes, just how fearless she truly was. She wasn’t intimidated by anything at all—not Pitch, not the Nightmares, not even this dark place where she was rendered all but powerless and he could easily destroy her if he ever got the mind to do so.

Starfire took a step forward and lifted her hand in silent invitation. The Nightmare didn’t move for a moment, conflicted as to whether or not she wanted some stranger touching her. Finally she stepped away from Pitch and moved cautiously towards the flora spirit, head low and eyes narrowed. Starfire waited with her hand raised, letting the Nightmare decide for herself how and when she wanted to be touched. Pitch held his breath as the mare sniffed at the spirit’s fingers, then her clothes, before finally stretching out her neck to brush the black sand of her muzzle against Starfire’s palm.

The flora spirit smiled broadly as she ran her hand along the creature’s neck, stroking the dark mane. “She’s surprisingly solid,” she said as she scratched under the mare’s chin. “They look rather ethereal, don’t they, especially when they’re running, so you wouldn’t expect them to be so solid.”

The Nightmare cried out at the compliment and tossed her head proudly. Pitch didn’t say anything. It felt like he’d lost the ability to speak. All he could do was stand there and stare openly at the scene unfolding before him.

“So strong,” Starfire praised as the Nightmare pranced around her, brushing against her body repeatedly as she did so. “You did a fantastic job reshaping them.”

“You can ride her if you want,” Pitch said suddenly. His voice sounded funny, like he was choking on his own words. He couldn’t explain it, but all of a sudden he was dying to see Starfire sitting astride one of his beautiful mares.

_She’d look stunning riding them._

His hopes were dashed when she told him, “Maybe next time. I want them to get used to me first.”

It made sense, but even so he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. _Next time for sure,_ he promised himself.

Giving the mare one last pat, she turned her attention back to the gaping Boogeyman. 

“Come on,” she said with a smile. “Give me a tour of the place.”

He readily obliged and practically glowed with pride as he showed off his home to her. Her reactions to what she saw pleased him, though he couldn’t quite explain why. There wasn’t much to see in the place, being broken and neglected and mostly empty, but she seemed genuinely intrigued by all of it and that made him happy.

The tour took the pair on a wide circuit that eventually brought them back to the front room where Pitch kept his globe. By the time they’d returned the lone Nightmare had been joined by several more, all of whom seemed determined to get Starfire’s attention. They bumped and pushed into her and into each other so much that Pitch lost his patience and wound up snapping at them to go away. They shied from his aggravated expression and fled to the shadows but didn’t disappear entirely. A dozen golden eyes stared out of the darkness like creepy disembodied spectators.

“My apologies,” Pitch told Starfire. He cast a dark look over his shoulder at the lingering Nightmares. “They aren’t used to company.”

“It would be rather hard to explain if they were,” She replied reassuringly. Then she yawned.

“It’s almost dawn,” he noted, glancing sideways at her. “You’d best be going.”

“Yeah.” She grinned at him. “Am I free to come back, or is this still by-invitation-only?”

A look of confusion crossed his face as he wondered why she’d even felt the need to ask such a question. _Is she just trying to be polite?_

“Of course you can come back,” he replied as if it were obvious, because it was.

“Good.” She leaned around him to wave at the Nightmares. “Bye!” she called to them, and they whickered in response.

“I’ll have Ebony see you out,” Pitch offered, and before she could protest a mare burst from the shadows and ran to her side, looking quite pleased at having been chosen for such a task.

“Well,” she huffed, “seems like I’m in no place to argue.”

The Nightmare tossed her head and Starfire shook her own at the sight of it.

“Until next time, then,” she said to Pitch, and he nodded mutely in response. She left without further ado, Ebony trotting after her.

Once they were gone, the other Nightmares started to emerge from the shadows one by one. Onyx (who’d kept her distance throughout Starfire’s visit) suddenly appeared in the room and moved to stand beside Pitch. She stared in the same direction he was, the way the flora spirit had disappeared.

“Do you like her?” the Nightmare King asked quietly, and the mare snorted and tossed her mane in response.

A warm smile spread across Pitch’s face. “Me too.”

**North America, 1749-1776**

She returned to his home just a few nights later and, as promised, he got her to ride one of the mares. She’d taken a particular shining to Ebony (though he couldn’t fathom how they’d developed such a bond in the few minutes they’d been together the other night), so that was the Nightmare she picked. Pitch couldn’t help but notice the obvious disappointment the other mares displayed at not being chosen, what with their heads drooping so dejectedly, and he wanted to strike all of them with his whip but instead threw his hands into the air.

Lilliana laughed at the sight of them all. “I told you they all have personalities.”

She mounted Ebony with practiced ease and perched comfortably on the Nightmare’s back, looking quite at home despite the obvious differences between the sand-creature and her flora-mare. Pitch felt something in his chest hitch as he took in the way her legs gently hugged the mare’s sides and her fire-red hair stood out in the darkness yet perfectly complemented the Nightmare’s jet black mane.

 _I knew it,_ he thought dazedly. _She does look stunning._

That first ride together was something he’d never forget for as long as he existed. It was quite different having her on one of his Nightmares and being in his company rather than competing with him, although she did talk him into a friendly race before the night was done just to see which of the two mares were fastest. As he tried his best to make his Nightmares all the same Ebony and Onyx were pretty evenly matched, but even so they snorted and snapped at each other as they raced along, desperate to please their respective riders. Onyx won by a nose, but Lilliana praised Ebony so wonderfully that one would think her Nightmare had been the victor, especially with how proudly the mare carried herself afterwards.

Pitch shook his head at the sight of them. “Don’t spoil them,” he scolded, but Lilliana just smiled.

“It’s the truth,” she insisted warmly, “she did a good job.” She patted Ebony’s neck, and the Nightmare whickered in appreciation.

The ride back to his realm was done in calm, companionable silence. Pitch kept stealing glances at Lilliana, unable to keep his focus away for long. It was strange how much she was affecting him now, and yet he found that he didn’t dislike the feeling at all. He wondered briefly if, perhaps, she was starting to feel the same way about him, but quickly dismissed the notion.

_No way. There’s just no way she would ever consider me anything more than a friend._

The thought shouldn’t have depressed him considering he was used to far worse treatment from spirits and had even come to expect such rejection, but it did. For some reason he just couldn’t bear the thought of her turning away and never coming back. He’d grown so used to her being in his life that he just couldn’t imagine an existence without her anymore.

_I’m so stupid, falling for such a spirit…_

In the passing months he was careful to keep his budding feelings to himself, though it was getting harder and harder as the year ended and the next one began. He’d never been good at self-control, and keeping such a huge secret when the very source of his turbulent, conflicted thoughts visited him almost weekly was growing increasingly difficult. But each time he felt the words threatening to spill from his mouth he jerked himself back to reality with sobering images of her leaving in disgust or, worse, mocking him once she knew the truth. Either scenario would be his undoing, so he bit back his confession each and every time he felt the urge to make it.

Still, Lilliana was a rather astute spirit, and in spite of his efforts there were times when she got a peculiar look in her eye that convinced him that she knew (or at least suspected) about how he felt. Either way she said nothing about it, and after a while Pitch started to wonder if she was just waiting until she was certain about his feelings or if she simply wasn’t comfortable broaching the subject because didn’t reciprocate. It was absolute torture not knowing which was the case.

But then, one cold winter night just after the midcentury turn, Pitch sat on his throne watching her pet and pamper his Nightmares when it suddenly struck him that he’d recently started addressing her as Lilliana without even realizing that he’d been doing so. He knew immediately that there was no way _she_ couldn’t have noticed such a thing, and he stifled a groan. Then he paused.

_I wonder if that means…_

Clearing his throat and feeling incredibly nervous, he called, “Lilliana?” and she turned her head to look at him expectantly.

“What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything, and after a moment he felt the corner of his mouth twitch when he failed to think of an adequate excuse for calling out to her so suddenly.

“Never mind,” he said, and was relieved when she turned back to the mares without question.

There was no doubt in his mind now. He’d looked hard into her eyes and she had looked back at him with the same open honesty she always had, her green eyes completely free of ill-will or ill-intent.

“Pitch.”

He jerked as the sound of his name pulled him out of his thoughts. “What?” he asked, and almost smiled when he realized their positions were now ironically reversed.

She stared across the room at him, and he was shaken by the intensity of that stare.

“Never mind,” she said simply and went back to petting the mares.

His breath hitched in his chest, and though he struggled to find the right words nothing came to him that even remotely approached what he was feeling in that moment.

 _She knows,_ he thought wildly. _She knows, and…_

_…and she doesn’t mind._

Relief and delight washed over him and he really did smile then, the expression spreading across his face and warming his golden eyes. He knew now that even if she didn’t come to care for him in the same way that he cared for her, at least she wasn’t going to hate or abandon him over it.

Years continued to pass, one right after the next. Tremendous changes were taking place in the human world, but the two spirits spent less and less time there, choosing instead to spend their visits either in the relative peace and safety of Pitch’s home or out in some foreign, wild place that Lilliana wanted to show him. They still only ventured out on nights when the Man in the Moon was blind, which put a significant damper on where they went and how long they stayed out for, but they had both become so used to it by that point that it really didn’t bother them. Even when they stayed in Pitch’s realm Lilliana always made certain to only arrive and depart when neither Manny nor her mother could spot her. Pitch never commented on her desire for privacy; instead he encouraged it, reminding her of the rising sun so she could leave before prying eyes took notice of what she’d been up to and with whom.

 _Last thing we need is for her mother to go prying into this,_ he thought darkly. He could only imagine how the Sun Woman would react if she ever found out about their relationship, regardless of the fact that it was still innocent and platonic.

Pitch’s mouth curled into a dry smile. _If only she had the power to read minds she’d know precisely how far from “innocent and platonic” I wish for this to go._

To further complicate matters for him, early one morning just before the sun was due to rise, an unexpected shift in the wind blew the clouds away. Just like that Manny was there, staring down upon the world. Pitch grumbled over the inconvenient timing, but for some reason Lilliana smiled.

“Well,” she said cheerfully, “looks like I’m sleeping over.”

Pitch nearly jumped out of his skin and a hot flush crept up his neck. “What?!”

When she regarded him with one eyebrow raised, he cleared his throat and stuttered, “Um…if-if that is what we have to do then I suppose we don’t have a choice.”

He prepared a room for her far from his own bedchambers, but even then the Nightmare King didn’t get a wink of sleep that day. Torn between embarrassment and excitement at the prospect of having the flora spirit stay with him, he paced restlessly. Even though it was obvious nothing was going to happen, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this was a sign that things might work out well for him in the end.

Maybe.

After that first incident (which had been incredibly awkward for Pitch in spite of the fact that Lilliana didn’t seemed bothered by it at all), the flora spirit ended up staying over more and more often. In time Pitch began to suspect that she was purposefully timing her visits with the shifting weather so she would have an excuse to sleep there, and he let her know that he was catching on.

“If I didn’t know better,” he said one morning as Lilliana retreated up the stairs towards her room, “I’d say you’re doing this to me on purpose.”

“Am I?” She paused on the steps to smirk down at him. “Why ever would I do that?”

She turned and walked away, leaving Pitch to stare blankly after her as he wracked his brains trying to figure out what she’d meant by that.

Then, about a month after that incident on the stairs, Lilliana was preparing to take her leave when she suddenly reached up and kissed him on the cheek. It was hardly more than a peck, but Pitch froze with his mouth literally hanging open as if she’d just done something truly outrageous.

“Bye,” she said calmly, as if nothing had happened, and with that she walked away. As he watched her go, Pitch came out of his stupor just enough to slowly lift his hand to his face, touching the spot she’d kissed as if he couldn’t believe it was actually attached to his body.

 _She’d never do that if she didn’t like me,_ he thought dazedly. _Not even to be a tease._

His mind went completely blank for a moment. Then he smiled broadly as pure, unadulterated glee coursed through him. He was so damn happy he burst out laughing and started doing silly twirls around the room on a sea of black nightmare sand. He knew he looked ridiculous, but he honestly didn’t care. Over and over and over again he thought to himself: _She likes me! She likes me too, she actually likes me!_

It felt absolutely wonderful.

He didn’t really know what to do with himself after that, for as desperately as he wanted more and was dying to act upon some of those urges he just couldn’t shed the worry that she’d react poorly to his advances. It wasn’t like he had experience, after all, and the last thing Pitch wanted after coming so far was to appear like a bumbling idiot.

He started out small, like taking her hand or brushing errant curls out of her face, and watched her reactions closely. She never said anything harsh or dismissive whenever he did these things. On the contrary, the second or third time he tentatively took her hand she gave his a squeeze, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. But then he relaxed and squeezed her hand back, the silent acknowledgement and acceptance of his affection giving him a massive boost in confidence. Pitch didn’t bother worrying about her reactions to his touch after that and simply did as he pleased…though still within reason. Even if he was far more comfortable with displaying his affection towards her, he didn’t want to rush things and accidentally push her too far.

They were spirits, after all, essentially immortal. They had time.

The first thing he did was give into his ever-present desire to touch her vivid red curls, and he indulged himself whenever he got the chance. When Lilliana took to perching on the arm of his throne while she read from her growing collection of pilfered books, he used those quiet moments together as an opportunity to play with her hair to his heart’s content. He never asked where the books came from, as he honestly didn’t care, but it amused him to know that she was something of a kleptomaniac when it came to reading material. A curious glance in her room one day revealed that she’d nearly filled the place with stacks upon stacks of stolen volumes, and he shook his head at the realization that he’d have to either make a library for her in one of the other rooms or move her bed someplace else. _Out in the hall should suffice,_ he’d thought with a wicked laugh, though he ultimately moved the books instead. One tome in particular he knew without a doubt came from North’s private library, for as she leaned against his shoulder with the heavy volume held up to her nose there was no mistaking the lingering scent of sawdust and sugar cookies that clung to the pages. He pictured the fat man blaming those ridiculous elves for the misplaced tome, and when he chuckled to himself at the image he caught the flicker of a smile cross Lilliana’s face as if she knew precisely what he was thinking about.

Then, late one night as Pitch ran his fingers through Lilliana’s curls while she read, the flora spirit slowly tilted to one side until she finally slipped off the armrest and down into his lap. The Nightmare King stiffened, conflicted for a moment as to what to do next. But then his expression softened and he brushed the tangled red locks out of his face, gathering them over her shoulder. Once that was done, he slipped his arms around her waist and held her close while he looked over her shoulder at the pages of her stolen book. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she leaned back a little more, relaxing in his embrace.

Not long after that memorable incident, Pitch finally plucked up the courage and kissed her. It was early in the morning and she was just preparing to leave, and while the timing was probably okay the rest of it was just horrendous. The kiss was quick and imperfect, and as soon as he did it he wanted to take it back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. It was the first time he’d ever openly apologized to her and it only added to his humiliation, but he felt it was necessary given just how badly he’d mishandled the moment. Inside the confines of his own head he raged at himself.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit! **Imbecile**!_

She shocked him by grinning. “About time you got the hint.” And while he stared at her, flabbergasted, Lilliana stepped closer to him and pressed her mouth to his.

He froze for just a fraction of a second before responding. Golden eyes slid closed as he slowly reached up to take her face in his hands. She was soft and warm and he made an appreciative sound at the back of his throat, moving to bury his fingers in her thick red curls as the kiss deepened. She tasted wonderful, sweet and a little earthy and absolutely delicious. Just one taste and he was addicted, his tongue pushing into her mouth to sample more. She moaned softly, and neither of them really noticed the clatter of her staff hitting the floor as her arms were already slipping around his neck to pull him closer. He could feel all of her now, her hips and her thighs and her breasts pressed right up against his body, and he had to stifle a groan.

_She’s so damn perfect._

His hands itched to explore her but he kept them locked firmly in her hair, not wanting to push her too far when it was only their first time being intimate like this. So he settled for devouring her sweet mouth, taking his time and savoring every single moment of it.

When they finally broke apart they were both panting and flushed. Lilliana lifted her face to whisper wickedly in his ear, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

A shiver ran through his body at the closeness of her and the huskiness of her voice. _I swear she’s going to be the end of me._

“What took you so long?” she asked quietly, and in spite of the incredibly yearning he felt for her, he frowned.

“You could’ve said something,” he grumbled, but that only made her chuckle.

“Yes.” She pressed closer to him, and he knew she could feel just how badly he wanted her. “But if I had done that,” she murmured, “I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see you squirm.”

He froze, and when she pulled back he saw the gleam in her eye.

“I think that’s adequate repayment for all the times you’ve toyed with me,” she said nonchalantly, almost as if they were discussing a business arrangement and not coming down from an incredibly passionate moment.

His eyes narrowed and his mouth curled into a dark smile. “Oh, you’ve _more_ than exceeded what’s ‘adequate’, my dear. I’ll be looking to collect on the difference, you mark my words.”

Rather than shy away from his harsh expression, Lilliana reached up to caress Pitch’s face with her smooth palm. When she answered him, her voice was practically a purr. “I’m looking forward to it.”


	11. Memories, Part III

**North America, 1778**

They shared many kisses after that, and Pitch enjoyed every single one of them. Some were quick and innocent and done in passing, but others were slow and long and deep and he savored the passion he felt in each and every one. Knowing that Lilliana loved them just as he did only added to his pleasure, for he adored the way she leaned against him, burying her hands in his hair or clinging to his neck as she opened her mouth for his persistent tongue. Once she even did the exploring, her tongue thrusting so boldly into his mouth that it took every ounce of will he possessed to stop himself from losing it right then and there. He moaned from both the immense pleasure of her touch and the incredible agony of having to hold back, and kept very, _very_ still while she had her way with him. When she was through, she pulled back and stared deep into his eyes, and he reached out with one trembling hand to caress her face. He didn’t know what she was looking for by staring at him so seriously, but whatever it was she must’ve found it. For she smiled a satisfied smile that warmed the deep green of her eyes and settled into his chest, closing her eyes with a contented sigh as he put his arms around her and held her close.

He found himself wanting to do things for her, but apart from simply being there for her when she wanted him to be he didn’t have any idea what would suffice. Pitch wasn’t exactly good at giving presents, having virtually no experience with doing such a thing in a benign manner. The only gifts he’d ever given had come with dark strings attached—the kind that always worked to the receiver’s detriment and left them cursing the very existence of the Nightmare King when they finally realized just how badly they’d been swindled. That wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to give Lilliana, but he simply didn’t have any inkling as to what would be considered a good present.

 _And it has to be_ really _good…I don’t want her to be insulted or to start thinking I don’t care about her._

He worried over it for several weeks before deciding to take a fly on his Nightmare in the hope that inspiration would just strike him. It had been a far-fetched plan, but in the end it worked out wonderfully. For as he flew across the continent he spotted something that instantly reminded him of her and, upon closer inspection, he realized that it was absolutely perfect.

_I hope she likes it._

Two nights later, after some minor adjustments, he was ready to present his gift to her.

“Come,” Pitch said, taking Lilliana’s hand. He smiled broadly, excitement gleaming in his golden eyes. “I have something to show you.”

“Is it another Nightmare?” she asked as he pulled her along.

“No.”

“Is it some horrid monster you’ve invented to scare kids with?”

“No.”

“Did you redecorate?”

He snorted. “As if.”

“You set up that library, didn’t you?”

“That was a necessity so it’s different.”

Her brows knit together. “What is it, then?”

But his grinned only widened as he told her slyly, “You’ll see.”

She scowled at him for his blatant teasing, but even so he could tell that she was more intrigued than anything by the mysterious “something” he had to show her.

Pitch led her through his realm, taking a number of shadowy shortcuts in order to get there quicker. When he finally stopped, Lilliana peered around him.

“A shadow?” she asked doubtfully.

It was, indeed, just another shadow, but Pitch had fashioned it in such a way that it closely resembled a door. He did that on purpose so she wouldn’t accidentally mistake it for another one of his portals, for they all looked pretty much the same if one wasn’t as familiar with the tiny distinctions in their color or shape or power as he was.

Instead of answering her pointed question, Pitch asked a question of his own. “Ready?”

She stared at him for a moment, taking in his wide grin and excited demeanor and no doubt weighing in her mind whether or not this was some elaborate trick he was pulling to get a rise out of her. But in the end she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and nodded, squeezing his hand tight.

Pitch felt something tug inside his chest at the immeasurable trust she continued to hold just for him in spite of his horrid reputation and dark past and literally everything else.

_I love you so damn much._

He bit back the confession just as he’d done many times in the past, and the words stuck hard in his throat. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold them back, for his desire to say them continued to grow exponentially with each passing night.

_But what if I say them and it’s more than what she wants from me?_

Even after everything they’d shared together he just couldn’t imagine the great wanderer Lilliana Starfire settling down with anyone. Even harder to picture was _him_ being the spirit she chose to commit herself to. Him: Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, invisible and forgotten and lord of nothing but crumbling ruins.

Swallowing hard, Pitch refocused on what he was doing and stepped back through the shadow, pulling Lilliana with him. They emerged on the other side moments later, no longer in the Nightmare King’s realm but in fact somewhere far from it.

He’d brought her to a gorge, one that had gone completely untouched by humans and spirits alike. He knew because he’d checked carefully just to be certain. Surrounded on all four sides by massive walls of sheer rock, the place was virtually impossible for humans to get into safely, and, without the presence of said humans, spirits seemed to have taken no interest in it. But knowing just how much Lilliana liked her privacy, Pitch understood that the absence of visitors would only make the area all the more attractive to her. 

He watched closely as the flora spirit walked around, silently taking in the vast empty space. There were no trees down here, only patches of scraggly grass and a couple of half-dead thorn bushes. While he didn’t know for sure since green things just weren’t to his taste, Pitch was pretty certain that this patch of land was too rocky and too shaded for anything else to grow.

But he knew his Lilliana would welcome such a challenge.

As the silence extended into minutes, the Nightmare King couldn’t stand the anticipation anymore. “Do you like it?” he asked, his smile wavering just a bit.

She turned to look back at him, and he felt his heart leap when he saw that she, too, was smiling. She looked so very pleased with his gift that Pitch’s grin widened almost to the point of pain, but he didn’t even care.

Raising her staff, Lilliana swung it high above her head before bringing it sharply back to earth. The ground immediately began to rumble, and in spite of the fact that he knew Lilliana would never hurt him Pitch took a cautious step back. As the rumbling continued the land began to split, dozens of fissures slowly tearing open to make way for rocks of all shapes and sizes that were being pushed free of the soil by massive roots. Carried along by these thick tendrils, the stones were piled neatly around the base of the cliffs so they were out of the way. By the time that was through, the earth at the bottom of the gorge looked freshly tilled and prime for planting.

Once that was done, Lilliana took her staff in both hands and swirled it through the air in such a complex pattern that Pitch was mesmerized. It almost appeared as if she was drawing an invisible picture, countless shoots rising from the depths of the dark soil to help her fashion this unseen creation. At her direction the sprouts rose ever higher, growing darker and thicker with each foot they grew, and soon branches and leaves were springing out along their length.

 _Trees,_ Pitch realized. _She’s growing trees._

He watched in awe as Lilliana practically danced through the gorge, completely caught up in the intricate spell she was weaving with her staff. She called more and more trees from the soil, raising them up towards the sky, and he was both impressed and delighted by the power she wielded with such ease. He craned his neck to watch as the treetops stretched ever higher, blocking out the night sky with a thick canopy of leaves and needles and heavy branches. At the very center stood a truly massive evergreen that towered over the rest, many of the other treetops failing to even reach the very first limb that grew from that enormous trunk.

 _Damn,_ he thought, highly impressed.

With a final flick of her staff, Lilliana was finished. Carried along on a springy vine she leapt back over to him, and he’d never seen her look so happy.

“Like it?” she asked, repeating his earlier question. She waved her hand to indicate the new growth then dropped it to her hip, proudly taking in her handiwork. “With the poor soil quality I was pretty limited in terms of what species I could summon, but I think I did a good job.”

“You did,” Pitch quietly agreed, but his eyes were on her and not the trees.

“Come on,” she said with a playful grin. “Let’s see what it looks like from up there.”

With that, Lilliana raced forward and _somehow_ managed to run right up the side of that big pine tree in the middle of the gorge.

_What the—?_

Shocked by the sight of it, Pitch sank into the shadows and shot after her. Once he got a good look, though, he understood fairly quickly that Lilliana’s ability to run vertically really wasn’t so mysterious after all. With each step she took the tree sprouted a new lump of bark that clung to her foot briefly as she put her weight on it, only to disappear again as she lifted off to take the next step. It all just seemed very strange at first because the speed and fluidity with which it all happened made it appear as if she were just magically lifting herself along the length of the trunk.

_But she still can’t keep up with the master of shadows._

With a wicked grin he raced to the top, inevitably beating her there by several minutes. When she finally joined him, he smirked. “I win.”

“Shut up,” she huffed, but the words were playful. Panting lightly, she reached up with her free hand to brush her tangled curls out of her eyes. Pitch watched the movement with something akin to disappointment in his golden eyes, for he’d secretly wanted to push the curls out of the way himself.

Apparently oblivious to his transfixed stare, Lilliana looked out over the flawless view and cooed, “So pretty!” She walked to the very edge of the thick tree limb and sat down, legs dangling freely, and Pitch quickly joined her.

“It is nice,” he agreed, taking in the picturesque scene. “Not a human in sight.”

“You can actually see the galaxy,” she pointed out, lifting her hand to show him.

“Hmmm.”

“Bet you don’t get that near your home anymore thanks to that town.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really taken the time to stargaze before.”

“You have.”

“Have not.”

“You have.”

He fixed her with a look. “How would you know?”

She smirked. “You’re the Nightmare King, lord of shadow, master of darkness. You _cannot_ tell me that you’ve never taken the time to study the stars before.”

He pursed his lips. “Well not really _study_ them, but…”

“See?”

He scowled. “Okay, so I did some reading and learned the constellations, but only because I wanted to know what all those morons back in Europe were doing when they stood on rooftops in the middle of the night talking about bulls and belts and lions in the sky.”

She laughed.

“Sorry for being boring,” he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest and feeling rather cross.

She grinned and leaned back on her palms, staff resting easily against her shoulder as she regarded him with barely-contained mirth. “Quite the contrary, it’s always fun to tease you. You’re always so animated.”

He continued to frown at her, but inside Pitch knew she was right. Other spirits had said similar things about him plenty of times, only they’d relied more on words such as “lacking in self-control”. It always astounded him how she could take an aspect of his character that had long been the subject of ridicule and turn it into a good thing that she genuinely appreciated.

The two spirits sat in silence for a long while, drinking in the peace and serenity of the moonless night. Then Lilliana whispered, “Thanks, Pitch,” and the Nightmare King smiled, pleased that she liked his gift.

“You’re welcome.”

“So I suppose this means you want me to stick around for a while.”

She said it with such a straight face that Pitch was confused. “What?”

She looked over at him. “Somebody has to take care of these poor trees. If I leave them all to you, they’ll be dead by winter.”

“I’m not _completely_ incompetent you know,” he said with an indignant huff.

“No?” She patted the limb they were sitting on. “What kind of tree is this?”

“A pine tree.”

For some reason that answer made Lilliana smirk. She pointed down at one of the smaller leafy trees. “And what do you call a tree like that that _doesn’t_ have needles?”

Pitch opened his mouth but nothing came out. He thought hard about it, but nothing came to mind in spite of his great effort.

Her smirk widened. “See? Dead by winter.”

She stood up and brushed her hands across her clothes. “So I suppose I’ll stay around and take care of them, as long as you don’t get sick of me.”

“Why would I get sick of you?” Pitch asked her seriously.

She turned away from him. “Everyone grows sick of me eventually.”

Her back was to him now so he couldn’t read her expression, but he knew from the slight tilt of her head that that her eyes were downcast. Understanding struck him with the force of a hammer, and he felt his stomach twist horribly inside of him.

_She didn’t start following me around just because she was bored…she did it because she was lonely and didn’t have anyone else to turn to._

He wondered what could’ve possibly happened over the course of Lilliana’s existence for her to feel so completely isolated that she’d resort to hanging around the Boogeyman just to avoid being alone. Pitch suspected that her strange and oftentimes haughty ways likely prompted a lot of other spirits to turn their back on her, and her tendency to wander off on her own probably hadn’t helped, either. It seemed the very things about her that he found amusing or endearing others had apparently regarded as bothersome and annoying…and he hated them for that. He hated them so deeply for crushing such a beautiful and intelligent spirit into something so small that there was no room left inside of her for fear.

Pitch stood up and moved to stand quietly behind her. She didn’t move or look at him, and he put his arms around her waist, pulling her back gently so that she could feel the warmth of his body. Holding her close, he lowered his head so he could whisper into her ear.

“I won’t grow tired of you,” he promised softly.

He wanted so desperately to say more, but he just couldn’t think of anything that was remotely adequate. Even so, those six little words seemed to be all she needed. He felt her suck in a shaky breath before tilting her head back so that it rested against his shoulder. Pitch buried his face in her curls and she relaxed against him, closing her eyes with a soft sigh. Upon hearing that sound, he held her a bit tighter and silently wished that she wouldn’t have to feel pain ever again.

**North America, 1801**

“You know I can’t.”

Pitch was sitting on his throne and Lilliana was with him, only this time she was facing him, her thighs straddling his as she looked deep into his eyes. Had she been doing so under _any_ other circumstances he would’ve found the position highly erotic, but given the significance of what she’d just suggested he found it anything but that.

“I know you _can_ ,” she countered. “I won’t let you burn.”

Pitch swallowed visibly and cast a nervous glance at Lilliana’s staff, which was propped up against the side of his throne. The flickering white flames were mere inches from his face, and he was filled with trepidation as he noticed how white they were.

_White flame burns hottest, right?_

He couldn’t see this turning out any way except very, very badly.

“Why are you asking me to do this?” he asked, turning back to her. “Why would you ever want me to do something like that?”

She regarded him with the utmost seriousness. “Because I want to share this with you.”

When he hesitated a moment longer, she murmured softly, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” he said at once, and he meant it.

“Then do this for me, Pitch. Please.”

Under the weight of her beautiful green eyes, Pitch sighed heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. “Your mother won’t know, will she?”

“Not unless you tell her.”

“Like I’d ever dare,” he huffed.

With that the argument seemed to be over, and Lilliana leaned forward a bit to reach her staff. Instead of taking it in her hand, though, she made for the obsidian claw at its top and put her fingers right into the fire. A moment later her hand came away with the white flames nestled in her palm, leaving the claw on her staff dark and empty.

She lowered the fire until it was between her body and Pitch’s, and he couldn’t help but lean back a little as if those few scant centimeters would somehow protect him.

“Give me your hand.”

Pitch didn’t move, eyeing the flickering white flame with growing anxiety. Heaving a little sigh, Lilliana reached out with her free hand and took his wrist. She guided first his left hand, and then his right, until they were cradling the hand that held the fire. There was a slight tremble to his fingers, and as she brushed her thumb along the inside of his wrist to comfort him he knew that she could feel the rapid beating of his pulse. He wasn’t scared, just extremely wary and incredibly anxious, for this was something his every instinct was screaming at him _not_ to do. 

But it was something she had asked of him, and she made requests so rarely that Pitch knew doing this was incredibly important to her. So he fought back against those instinctual warnings and set his jaw, determined to do it for her.

“Ready?”

Pitch tried to answer, but the word stuck in his throat and he was forced to swallow. He scolded himself harshly, _Stop being a baby!_ But before he could open his mouth and try again, she spoke.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered to him, leaning over their joined hands to gently press her forehead against his. With their gazes locked, she quietly assured him, “I won’t let it hurt you.”

Pitch closed his eyes briefly and took a calming breath. Then, at his nod, she slipped her hand free of the fire so that he was the one holding it instead.

Golden eyes grew very wide as he stared down at it, and the faintest of smiles played around the corners of his mouth. “It’s warm.”

Lilliana laughed softly. “Of course it is. Fire is fire, even when I tell it to behave.”

It didn’t even feel like fire, though. It felt…it felt soft and incredibly warm, but in a comforting way, and as the little tendrils of flame flicked over his fingers, he shivered, for they felt like tiny little hands gently caressing his skin. And right at the center, where the flame was strongest and pressed against his palms, he could feel the faintest of pulses. It took him a moment to realize what it was, and when he did he drew in a sharp breath.

_It’s beating in time with her heart._

“It feels like a heartbeat,” he breathed, his voice filled with wonder.

“It’s bound to my life force,” she quietly explained. “It will burn for as long as I exist, and as long as it burns I will continue to exist.”

Pitch had to think about that twice before he understood what she meant, and when he finally did the significance of what she’d made him do hit him with the force of a thousand charging Nightmares.

The white fire was a physical representation of her spiritual essence, similar to what humans referred to as souls except this one could be seen and touched and bent to Lilliana’s will. The flame would continue to burn as long as she existed in the world, but if the fire was to ever be forcibly put out for some reason then she would disappear and essentially become dead.

_She’s literally put her life into the hands of the Boogeyman._

He was shaken by the sheer amount of trust she had in him. _How could she believe in me so completely? One quick clench of my fist and I could destroy her, smothering this fire with the power of my shadow. Even if she does love me, how can she possibly believe in me this much_?

He was overcome with emotion and bowed his head. He didn’t cry, but he still didn’t want her seeing his face right now. Lilliana ran her fingers through his hair in gentle strokes, over and over, while the two of them sat in silence for a very long time.

When the Nightmare King finally regained his voice, he spoke very, very softly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she murmured.

“From now on…may I call you Lilly?”

She looked up at him, surprised by the question, but he was embarrassed and kept his eyes averted. Then she smiled and rested her forehead against his once more. “Of course you may.”

**North America, 1814**

Pitch paced around his black globe in such a towering rage that his Nightmares cowered and shied from him, fearful of becoming the focus of his attention lest he unleash his fury upon them.

“An _hour_!” he shouted, spitting in his fury. “An _hour_ and she threatens to burn me to a crisp! Who does she think she is, telling me what to do?!”

Lilly’s unmistakable voice broke from the shadows at the bottom of the steps. “What happened?”

Pitch swung around to face her, the sudden movement sending the few Nightmares that had dared linger scattering for safety.

“I got caught up scaring some brats this morning,” he seethed. “I was barely an _hour_ beyond the sunrise and that damned Sun Woman sent her minions after me! They chased me all the way back from Europe, for darkness’ sake!”

“Did they hurt you?” she asked, her tone darkening with an unspoken promise as her lips pressed into a thin line. It seemed the very thought of anyone—even her mother’s servants—doing him harm both aggravated and incensed her.

He waved his hand through the air and made a dismissive sound between his teeth. “No, but that’s not the point! I am the Nightmare King! I should be treated with respect! I should be regarded with fear and trembling, not set upon by fiery chariots that chase me halfway across the world just because I was _late_!”

Undeterred by his rage, Lilly approached him and laid a placating hand on his arm. “It’s almost the solstice,” she calmly reminded him. “She’s always cranky this time of year.”

“Like that’s an excuse!” Pitch hissed, but he reached up and took her hand to squeeze it tightly. His breath left him in sharp bursts as he struggled to calm down. It was a lot easier with her there; her presence was like a soothing balm, calming his turbulent emotions and bringing sense back to him.

“How am I ever going to do anything besides crawl around under beds if I can’t even get other spirits to leave me alone?” he lamented.

“She’s just afraid,” Lilly told him, brushing his chin with a kiss, but Pitch snorted.

“Like that wretched Sun Woman has anything to be frightened of!”

Her face fell into an expression so serious that Pitch was taken aback.

“What?” he asked, confusion and concern reflected in his eyes.

“Come,” she commanded, and pulled him away from the globe. She led him straight to the shadow portal he’d formed for her and passed right through it, and when they emerged in their grotto of trees Pitch saw that the place was still shrouded in darkness. Sunrise in this place wouldn’t be for at least another couple of hours.

Without once easing her grip on his arm, Lilly brought him to the very top of the massive pine tree growing at the center of the gorge.

“Look up there,” she instructed, finally releasing him so as to point up at the night sky. “What do you see?”

“Stars,” Pitch grunted.

“And do you know what the sun is?”

“A star,” he replied.

“And what’s all of that in between the stars?”

He threw himself down onto the tree limb. “Space, emptiness…” He was still irritated, and it was clearly reflected in his curt answers. “Take your pick of what you call it.”

“And what color is that space?”

That particular question caused him to frown. “Black,” he said, confused now as to where the conversation was going.

“Yes. It’s black.” Lilly sat next to him, her bare feet dangling in the air as she gazed up at the twinkling stars.

“The universe is an enormous place, Pitch, filled with trillions upon trillions of stars. Each star has its own place and its own purpose, even if they’re not all guided by a spirit like my mother guides our sun. Those that _do_ have spirits…. Well, let’s just say they have a penchant for gossip. They may be separated by countless light-years of empty blackness, but they still find ways to communicate with one another. Those interactions create a massive network, a truly immeasurable flow of information across time and space. But not all of it is good news, not even for them.”

Pitch looked at her questioningly, but rather than meeting his gaze she kept her attention fixed upon the sky.

“I heard things, Pitch, things that no other spirit on this planet has ever heard of before. The second and last time I ever saw my mother, I overheard her speaking to one of those far-off star spirits. She was so furious with me when she caught me eavesdropping she threatened to have me whipped, but I chose to move out instead.”

Pitch stiffened and his eyes flashed with fury. “She’d do that?!” he snarled, absolutely enraged by the very idea of the Sun Woman even considering such a horrendous thing.

“For anything else, I don’t think so,” Lilly told him, “but I probably chose the best and worst time to walk in on her.”

She still didn’t look at him, but she did reach over and take his hand. His anger dissipated almost immediately, and he relaxed, allowing her to continue with her story.

“You see, Pitch, scattered throughout the universe far, far beyond this planet are massive holes of solid blackness from which nothing can escape. Not life, not light…not even spirits have been able to escape from them. That distant star spirit said they’re like big gaping mouths, like the throats of massive yawning beasts that just suck down everything and anything that get in their way. They’re even rumored to be cannibalistic—feeding off of smaller patches of that same darkness should one happen to wander too close. Countless stars and planets have already been lost to them, the spirits dwelling there sucked down into the depths never to be seen or heard from again. They cannot be destroyed, for hundreds have tried, and if you draw too close and happen to be caught within their power there is absolutely nothing you can do to escape.”

Pitch had never heard of such a thing. _Black holes that cannot be destroyed and swallow up everything, even stars and spirits?_

He couldn’t even begin to imagine such a thing, and yet the very thought of it filled him with delight. He listened with rapt attention as Lilly continued with her story.

“I didn’t have to ask why my mother threatened violence if I didn’t hold my tongue.” She finally turned to look at him, her deep green eyes staring directly into his gold ones. “It’s because she’s afraid, Pitch. She is absolutely terrified of being destroyed by that empty darkness just as her distant kin have been.

“That’s why she avoids you, you know. Why she drives you back into the depths whenever you dare to linger in the world too long. You don’t just embody fear; you embody _her_ fear, _her_ nightmares. She hates you because she knows that if you draw anywhere near her you will be able to sense that fear. She hates you because every time she looks at you or even thinks about you, she is reminded of the fact that darkness in its purest form is far more powerful than even her precious sun.

“Even in your weakest form, Pitch,” she finished with a warm smile, “the Sun Woman is terrified of you.”

The Boogeyman’s mouth was sagging open by the end of this speech, but he didn’t even notice. He stared at her stupidly for a long moment before slowly turning his head to gaze up at the night sky with wide eyes.

 _She’s scared…of_ me _? The_ Sun Woman _is scared of_ me _?!_

Had anyone else told him this, he would’ve laughed right to their faces or cleaved their heads from their bodies for daring to mock him with such a lie. But Lilly had never lied to him, not even once, and he believed every word she said. It was wonderful and overwhelming and enlightening and many, _many_ other things, so many things that his head felt like it was spinning.

Pitch squeezed Lilly’s hand and lifted it to his lips. In that moment a confession bubbled up inside of him, one that he’d been fighting for many years now but just couldn’t bite back anymore.

In fact, he didn’t _want_ to hold it back anymore.

Brushing a kiss across her knuckles, he murmured, “I love you.”

Her response was to smile broadly, an amused gleam to her beautiful green eyes. “Took you long enough.”

He snorted, and she laughed quietly. She scooted closer to him on the tree limb until she was close enough for him to put his arms around her. He did just that, holding her close to his heart as she whispered, “I love you too, Pitch.”

* * *

Jack was pulled from the vision by a sudden jerk that wracked his whole body. It was so forceful, in fact, that he lost his balance and fell to the floor of Tooth’s Palace with an undignified grunt. His head throbbed from the strain of a massive headache—caused, no doubt, by his being forced so abruptly from the memories.

“Hey!” he said indignantly, rubbing his pounding temples. “What’s the idea, Tooth, we were just getting to the important par—”

He broke off when an animalistic scream echoed through the halls, causing the frost spirit’s ears to ring. Hundreds of little fairies scattered like a terrified flock of birds, chittering with absolute terror, and for a moment Jack thought the Palace roof was on fire. Then he blinked again and realized that what he was seeing was actually a pair of flaming chariots, each pulled by a burning winged horse and driven by what could only be described as fire-men. Their hair, their bodies, even the clothes they wore were made of red-hot flames. The sight was as intimidating as it was surreal, and the frost spirit gaped at them open-mouthed.

As the fire-men drove through the Palace the air became very hot, and Jack could clearly hear the dull roar of wind-battered flames as the chariots slammed to a stop on the platform before the Guardians. One of the horses screamed again but the fire-man in charge of it yanked hard on the reigns, silencing it instantly. Both animals folded their mighty wings and stood there panting, black smoke puffing from their mouths and nostrils with each gasping breath. Now that they were closer, Jack realized that the fire-men were absolutely identical, just like Tooth’s fairies, though he figured they were probably just as different in terms of personality as Baby Tooth and all the other fairies were from each other. Furthermore, Jack noted with some surprise that while the two of them looked like men with their impressive size and heavy muscles, there was a definite softness to their facial features that left him wondering if they were, perhaps, androgynous.

He didn’t ponder the mystery for long though as he was too busy fighting an inexplicable surge of fear. For the first time in his entire existence as a spirit Jack felt his hair and face grow slick with sweat, and just like that he suddenly realized precisely what it was that he was feeling.

He leapt back, putting great distance between himself and the fire-men. Clutching his staff tightly to his chest, Jack struggled against the nearly overwhelming urge to flee, to just fly from that place and put hundreds of miles between himself and those two fire-men. His every instinct was screaming at him to get away quickly, but he just couldn’t leave North and the others. Concern for their safety was literally the only thing holding him back.

His friends had all stepped back, too, even Sandman, and Jack saw that none of them looked any more comfortable in the newcomers’ presence than he did. Bunny was crouching low to the ground with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he were being crushed, Tooth had landed on the floor as if her wings could no longer bear her weight, Sandy had visibly paled so that he was more of a washed-out banana color instead of his usual vibrant yellow, and North looked ready to collapse but was clinging stubbornly to his knees to try and stay upright. Jack took it all in with enormous eyes, dread filling his stomach with hot bile.

The strength and will of the five Guardians were literally and effortlessly being smothered by the overwhelming power wielded by those two fire-men. That they were mere servants left Jack with only one conclusion:

 _I do_ not _want to meet their master, no matter who they are!_

Yet, as the frost spirit was about to discover, he wasn’t going to be given a choice. For upon landing one of the fire-men opened his mouth and announced in a loud, commanding voice that boomed effortlessly throughout the Palace:

“Guardians, servants of the esteemed Man in the Moon: You are hereby summoned to the Golden Palace to stand before Her Highness Saluė Starfire, the Sun Woman!”


	12. Sun Woman

As the name implied, every inch of the Golden Palace was a blinding yellow. The entire exterior appeared to have been built out of solid gold, from the platform they stood on to the twelve towers topped with enormous spires. Even the enormous front doors—which took six straining fire-men to push open—were made of that glittering rich material. Accentuating both the color and the otherworldliness of the Palace were the reflections cast upon every polished surface by the blazing hot flames that surrounded the star spirit’s realm. To Jack, it appeared as if the very architecture was adorned in dancing fire, and his eyes watered profusely from the sheer intensity of heat and light.

_No wonder Pitch avoids this place like the plague!_

It was a great relief when he and the other Guardians were finally led inside. But even so, as the massive doors were pulled closed behind them the frost spirit couldn’t help but cast one last nervous glance back at the towering inferno. He didn’t like being here, not one bit. With those flames it would be impossible for any of Guardians to leave the star spirit’s realm without her explicit permission, and as he already had a sneaking suspicion as to what this unexpected summons was about, Jack just couldn’t shake the feeling that he and his friends might _not_ make it out again.

“It’s okay Jack,” Tooth whispered quietly, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “The Sun Woman may be a bit harsh, but she is quite rational. We haven’t done anything wrong so no harm will come to any of us.”

Jack tried to smile to show her he was okay, but it felt as stiff and forced as it undoubtedly looked.

As the heavy golden doors shut with a bang that echoed hollowly throughout the grand entrance hall, a servant dressed in elegant but simple garb (all made of fire, of course) gestured wordlessly for them to follow her. As they trailed after their escort, Jack studied the Palace interior. Like on the outside everything within the Palace walls was extremely yellow, but thankfully for his eyes the color wasn’t nearly as striking here. The walls looked to be made of gold, but the roof and floor were not (though they were lined with decorative gold molding). Those were built from flawless white marble, but the stone was so perfectly polished that it clearly reflected the yellow of the walls as well as the hot fire that adorned almost every surface in one way or another. As a frost spirit, Jack was extremely uncomfortable being surrounded by so much fire, and the deeper into the Palace they traversed the hotter and more suffocating it became until it felt like he was literally melting. Sweat coated his body and his hoodie stuck uncomfortably to his chest and back. It was close to impossible to keep hold of his staff when his hands were so damp, and constantly wiping his palms off on his pants didn’t do much to help as they were soon sweating profusely again. Jack knew it was the force of the Sun Woman’s power doing this to him, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.

“Just be glad it ain’t the solstice, mate,” Bunny muttered as the frost spirit slid his hands along his clothes yet again.

Glancing over at him, Jack saw that the Pooka’s ears were droopy and that he looked unspeakably hot under all that fur. The others didn’t seem much better off. North had shed his heavy coat and it hung, neatly folded, over one thick forearm, but even then the big man was sweating profusely, his cheeks far redder than usual. Tooth and Sandy both hovered low to the floor, the latter still a rather sickly color, for neither of them seemed capable of true flight anymore. Just as it was for Jack, the indescribable power collected within the Sun Woman’s realm was smothering their spiritual power. Compounding the torture was the fact that it only grew worse with every step they took until it became abundantly clear to the frost spirit that the Guardians were all completely at the star spirit’s mercy. It wouldn’t take more than a passing thought for her to crush and burn the five of them into nothing.

 _Here’s hoping she’s in a good mood,_ Jack thought grouchily, wiping his hands for what felt like the hundredth time before sliding his damp sleeve across his forehead _._

Their escort led them to a spectacularly grand throne room, announced their presence, and promptly left. The ceiling stretched so high overhead that Jack couldn’t see the top, and he could’ve sworn that the whole of North’s workshop could fit inside that one room. Before them stood an assembly of fire-men and fire-women, though unlike the ones who’d ridden in the chariots these looked different from one another and wore fine robes and fancy garments, so Jack figured they had to be spirits of some importance within the realm. Keeping a good distance from the six fiery steps that led up to the star spirit’s grand throne, these greater beings all hovered around what appeared to be a seven-foot-tall oval mirror. The back of it was to the Guardians, though, so Jack couldn’t really tell for sure what it was or why it was there.

The Sun Woman stood amongst her courtiers, and much like her daughter she was truly an impressive and intimidating sight. She towered over her short-statured entourage, her regal finery and crown of white fire accentuating her grand appearance. She was beautiful like her daughter, but unlike Starfire the Sun Woman’s face was thin and angular, with overly-defined cheekbones, and her skin was white. Her hair was quite straight and very, very long, cascading down her back in golden waves to pool on the floor around her feet. It was a wonder she didn’t trip over those extreme locks, and in spite of the situation Jack found himself smothering a laugh as he thought of more than one trick he could play using hair like that.

Most arresting of all, though, were the Sun Woman’s eyes. Jack was a bit taken aback by just how…detached they were. Seeing them reminded him of all the times he’d floated through museums and art galleries, freezing pipes and causing other mischief while sparing a few moments to curiously examine some of the displays. There had been dozens upon dozens of paintings that portrayed human royalty and other figures of historical importance, and he recalled just how empty their expressions always were. No smiles, no warmth, no anger, no nothing, as if aloofness was somehow synonymous with power, as if it was believed that displaying emotions would somehow make monarchs appear weak and vulnerable. This Sun Woman was very much like the humans in those paintings; her face was completely expressionless, and there was absolutely no emotion in those shimmering golden eyes. It was incredibly unnerving.

The moment the Guardians’ escort was gone, the star spirit addressed them.

“I have brought you here, servants of the Moon, for you to answer my questions.”

No introductions, no formalities. The words were formal and polite enough but her voice was just as neutral as her stare, and it was clear to Jack that their position as Guardians—while envied and highly respected by most earth-bound spirits—was of absolutely no importance to the Sun Woman. She regarded them in exactly the same manner as she did her servants and courtiers and virtually everyone else.

 _This isn’t going to go well,_ Jack knew. He gulped the lump in his throat and glanced nervously at the others. North, Sandy and Tooth all had their eyes on the floor, and Jack had never seen them look smaller, not even when they’d been all but drained of their power during Pitch’s recent attack on the children’s belief. In spite of all their assurances that the Sun Woman was a reasonable spirit, it seemed the reality of her was far more intimidating than any of them had anticipated.

Bunny, on the other hand, had a peculiar look on his face. His emerald eyes were fixed upon that mirror-like object and his ears were twitching slightly as if he were straining to hear something. As Jack studied him, a slight frown settled upon the Pooka’s mouth, which almost made him appear…confused.

_What’s up with him?_

The Sun Woman was still speaking, cutting into his thoughts and snapping him back to attention in an instant.

“Rumors have been flying as of late,” she was saying as she paced a few steps away from them. When she reached the bottom of those fire steps, she turned sharply to pin them with her gaze once more. “I will have the truth from you, so I may know whether foolish tongues ought to be cut for speaking such lies.”

Jack shivered under the implications of those words. There hadn’t been any inflection at all in her tone, but even so the frost spirit knew without a shred of doubt that the Sun Woman absolutely meant it when she said she’d cut off tongues if these stories she’d been hearing proved to be false.

_I just hope she isn’t about to say what I think she’s going to say, otherwise this isn’t going to go well._

North, the obvious speaker for the group, cleared his throat nervously. “If we know truth, Sun Woman, we shall share it,” he rumbled politely.

“Of course you will.”

She said it with such certainty that no one, not even the Guardians, were under the misassumption that withholding the truth from the star spirit was a possibility.

“Tell me, then.” Those disturbingly empty eyes were on the move again, shifting from face to face. It felt to Jack like she had the power to see right into their very hearts and minds with that piercing yellow stare. “Is it true that my daughter is fornicating with the spirit of fear and shadow?

The question was so direct that North actually choked on his breath and Tooth cringed. Sandy wrung his hands nervously, wisps of yellow sand appearing above his head but failing to take any discernible shape. Even Jack found that he was at a bit of a loss for words. He scratched awkwardly at his snow-white hair as he struggled to come up with an answer that was truthful but wouldn’t reveal any more than absolutely necessary. The last thing they needed was the Sun Woman _and_ Starfire _and_ Pitch all mad at them.

_This isn’t good. How do we explain…?_

Bunny, for whatever reason, was still fixated on that mirror. His ears were standing very straight now and he still had that weird look on his face.

 _Come on, Bunny, we’ve got more important things to worry about now!_ Jack thought exasperatedly.

North was struggling to speak, and he seemed overly interested in his fingernails all of a sudden. “Well, uh…about that…”

Tooth tried to help him, but she, too, seemed unsure as to how they should proceed. “You see, Your Highness…uh…” Her wings fluttered briefly to expel some of that nervous energy, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by the Sun Woman. Yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously as she stared them down, silently demanding an answer to her question.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Jack finally offered, clutching his staff tightly in his hand.

A collective gasp swept through the courtiers. They began to murmur amongst themselves, a few lifting a hand so that their long, intricately embroidered sleeves hid their lips and prevented Jack or the others from guessing what they were saying. More than one cast smugly satisfied looks over at the mirror, and now it was Jack’s turn to frown.

_What are they all watching over there? And why is Bunny so damn interested?_

The Sun Woman’s eyes reduced to mere slits. “Leave,” she commanded, and the assembled fire spirits immediately fell silent. They bowed and took their leave, exiting the massive hall without uttering a single word either in question or complaint.

Once she was alone with the five Guardians, the Sun Woman drew in a long breath. “So,” she said, the word escaping her on that same breath as she let it out sharply. “That child humiliates us yet again.”

“I don’t think humiliating anyone was her intent,” Jack told her in as polite a tone as he could muster. It was extremely difficult keeping his head right now, what with the overwhelming heat and the mounting belief that something about this whole situation just wasn’t right. _Particularly_ that mirror.

“What other reason would there be?” Sun Woman asked coolly. Then she added, almost to herself, “That ungrateful child is always doing things to irk me.”

Jack bristled. He didn’t know why (he didn’t even _like_ Starfire) but what the star spirit had just said really pissed him off. As a result, all thought of courtesy and self-preservation flew right out the window.

“Don’t act like everything’s about you!” he snapped. “Starfire’s a grown spirit she can do whatever she wants!”

“Jack,” North said quietly, placing a cautioning hand on his shoulder, but the frost spirit shook it off. As he did so, he finally realized _why_ he was feeling so angry.

He’d seen this before, hadn’t he? In the three hundred years he’d been a spirit, Jack had observed children from all kinds of homes and from all kinds of families. He’d seen mothers _and_ fathers just like this Sun Woman—people who thought they were so much better than everyone else around them and who treated their children like compulsory projects. They called themselves parents but didn’t shoulder any of the responsibility, leaving everything to the hands of people with whom their kids shared no blood ties and developed no true bonds. Children in such situations were left to wonder why it was their parents paid them no mind, why everything _else_ was so much more important than they were, why they very people who were supposed to love them didn’t seem to care about them one way or the other. Jack knew that, just as it was for spirits, the very worst thing a child could experience was being ignored. Even negative attention was better than none at all, for kids had an exceptional if utterly terrible way of twisting everything in their minds in order to make sense of it, and they often interpreted their parents’ anger or disgust as a way of showing affection or concern for their well-being. But if their parents didn’t do or say anything to them or even _look_ at them, then it was as if they didn’t care about their kids at all. It was as if the child was invisible…and Jack knew what being invisible felt like. He knew what it was like to not be believed in as a spirit, so he could imagine the gut-wrenching pain a child must endure whenever they had to experience such isolation from their own family.

It wasn’t as if the Sun Woman had been intentionally cruel; quite the contrary, she genuinely believed that she’d done what was best for her daughter. But while Starfire had been raised healthy and strong and intelligent, she’d never been shown any love or affection (two things that all kids needed and desperately craved), and Jack knew through somber observation back on Earth that kids who didn’t experience love from their own families had an exceptionally hard time learning how to love and be loved later on in life. Many never truly learned how. That Starfire had managed to find such a deep connection with Pitch was something of a miracle, in more ways than one.

Under the weight of this newfound clarity, Jack’s chest began to heave. Fury and indignation filled him with an overwhelming need to defend the very spirit that, not two days ago, he’d regarded with suspicion and animosity. He didn’t have to consider _why_ he felt that way, for it was as if the answer was etched into his very essence:

He was a Guardian of Childhood, a spirit chosen by the Man in the Moon to watch over and protect the youngsters of Earth. Jack felt enormously protective of all those kids, even those who were disregarded by others as being rebellious or problematic, and that streak was what fueled his anger now. He just couldn’t shake the image from his mind of a young Starfire struggling to find her place in a realm that held no love or warmth for her while constantly being told over and over and over again that she was ungrateful and disobedient. There had been no Guardians back then, no spirits to come forward and take her hands and assure her that everything was all right, that it was okay for her to hope and dream and have a bit of fun once in a while. Jack was furious because he now knew that Starfire had been robbed of her childhood. She’d been groomed to be rigid and cold in deliberate spite of the fact that she was free-spirited and extremely strong-willed, and now the Sun Woman was trying to force her daughter right back under that iron fist by accusing her of being shameful and ungrateful for daring to find love with someone of whom the star spirit did not approve.

It was clear that even though she was very much grown up, Starfire was still being treated like a disrespectful child by her mother, and as a Guardian Jack was filled with unbridled determination to do whatever he could to put a stop to it once and for all.

Everything else, including his personal reservations regarding Starfire and Pitch’s recent conduct, could wait until after.

Ice-colored eyes remained fixed upon the Sun Woman as Jack informed her hotly, “Not everything she does is a reflection of you just like everything you do isn’t a reflection of her! Get off your high horse and leave her alone!”

With the exception of Bunny the Guardians’ jaws dropped and even the Sun Woman looked stunned for a moment by his audacity. Clearly, this was the very first time anyone had ever dared show her such immense discourtesy. The air around them seemed to grow even hotter as the star spirit stiffened.

“You dare speak that way to me?” she asked, the coldness of her voice belying the extreme heat of the room.

Undeterred by the silent threat that temperature change carried, Jack boldly declared, “Starfire is your daughter. If you love her at all you’ll respect her decisions even if you don’t like them!”

“Love?” The Sun Woman barked out a laugh. “You sound just Moon.”

“He seems to care far more about her than you do, and he’s not even her father!” Jack snapped, remembering that Starfire had made mention of that detail about Manny back at the Warren.

“He’s driven by guilt, boy, nothing more.” The Sun Woman swept up the steps of golden fire and settled into her massive throne. Her hair and her gown were spread all about her, giving her a spectacularly regal appearance. She looked more like an empress or a sun goddess than a mere spirit, and her cool detachment had returned. She stared down at the Guardians as she informed them, “What little he does for my daughter are but petty attempts to clear his own conscience.”

Jack was both intrigued and incredibly confused by what that meant, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he silently promised: _The second we get out of this I’m gonna ask the others what happened between Manny and this Sun Woman and what it has to do with Starfire._

He had a sneaking suspicion that it had a great deal to do with whatever the flora spirit had meant when she’s told Pitch that in being born she’d “served her purpose”. _Did Manny have something to do with her birth even though he’s not her dad?_ he wondered. Then he shook his head vigorously. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by that right now, there were far more pressing matters at hand.

Pushing the mystery aside to join all the others that had built up over the past week, Jack refocused on the Sun Woman. “Regardless of his reasons, at least he tries to help her. What have you ever done for her that didn’t serve some ulterior motive of yours?”

The Sun Woman said nothing, and it took Jack a moment to realize that she wasn’t _going_ to say anything. He felt his stomach twist into a hard knot.

“You can’t say anything, can you?” He felt absolutely disgusted. “Hundreds and _hundreds_ of years she’s been alive and you can’t think of one single thing that you’ve done for her that was purely out of the goodness of your own heart? What kind of mother are you?!”

Rather than appear angry, the Sun Woman actually looked bored by the very conversation that was incensing the Guardian of Fun. Jack could see a lot of Starfire in that expression. “Don’t misunderstand, boy,” she said. “You speak of this as if my relationship with my daughter should compare to those petty familial bonds your precious children share with their human parents. Let me assure you that they do not. There is no comparison between them.”

“Because most parents actually care about their kids.” Jack felt absolutely sick just thinking about it. “What kind of mother lives in the same home as their child but doesn’t pay them _any_ attention? What kind of mother speaks about their child as if they’re a hindrance when she’s done nothing but stay out of your way exactly as you wanted her to?!”

“She left of her own volition,” she informed him. “As for how I chose to raise her, you are in no position to judge until you have a child of your own.” For the first time her expression shifted as she smirked knowingly. “With a body like that, I doubt such a day will ever come.”

“I don’t need kids of my own,” Jack countered. “The children of the world are all the kids I need! They don’t have to be my own blood for me to love and protect them, which is a sight more than you ever did for Starfire!”

“What do you know about it?” she snapped. She was finally losing some of her regal formality in the face of her growing anger. “Nothing! I gave that child life! I gave her food to eat and a place to sleep! I gave her the best tutors and teachers a spirit could ever wish for! That I did not cuddle or coddle her was for her own benefit. And after all I did for her, after all I _sacrificed_ for her, all I asked in return was that she respect and obey me. Is that _really_ such a terrible thing to ask?”

Jack didn’t know anything about “sacrifices” but he was sure as certain that the Sun Woman truly had no idea what it was she’d done wrong. In her own mind she’d done Starfire a great service by leaving her upbringing to servants and instructors, and while normally it would be perfectly acceptable for a parent to require their child’s respect and obedience, in this case it sounded more like the Sun Woman was _demanding_ she be obeyed because she felt she was owed it.

Jack almost felt sorry for the Sun Woman. Almost. Her approach to child-rearing was exceptionally old-fashioned, and as a result her understanding of the concept of parenthood was irreparably warped.

But even so, that simply was no excuse for her close her heart to her own child, and that was what stopped him from feeling truly sympathetic for her.

Tooth flew up beside Jack, and for a moment he was sure that the fairy was going to scold him for being so rude to such an impressive being. Instead the Guardian of Memories’ attention was fixed upon the seated star spirit, and while her pale cheeks were tinted a little red Jack couldn’t quite identify what was causing that surge of color.

Politely but firmly, Tooth told the Sun Woman, “Whatever reservations you may have about Lilliana’s relationship with Pitch, you should put them aside in favor of your daughter’s happiness.”

Sandy appeared at Tooth’s elbow, and a quick glance revealed that the little yellow man’s face was determinedly set. Weakened or not by the intense heat and power of the Golden Palace, the Guardian of Dreams knew what was right and was going to stand by his friends. North also stepped forward, his dark eyes stubborn and one large hand coming to rest on his hip—the closest thing to a reprimand he dared give the Sun Woman.

Only Bunny didn’t move. He was still fixated on that stupid mirror.

“Pitch Black is your greatest enemy,” the Sun Woman pointed out in an overly polite voice, as if she were gently reminding them of something obvious that they’d all forgotten. “Why are you suddenly so keen to defend him?”

“We’ve had our disagreements,” Jack acknowledged, “but thanks to Tooth we’ve had a look inside his memories. What he feels for Starfire is genuine, and what she feels for him is just as real. It isn’t our place to mess with that any more than it is yours!”

The Sun Woman looked down at them for a long moment, seeming to weigh in her mind whether or not she should comment on what the frost spirit had just said. Her eyes closed briefly and she sat back in her throne with a long sigh. When she opened them again, Jack was stunned by just how hard they’d become. Her words were soft and bordering on cruel when she said, “Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter now.”

Jack felt something ice cold touch his belly. Normally he loved the cold and accepted it gladly, but this was a feeling that absolutely terrified him. He didn’t like that look, and he liked those sinister words even less. Sandy and Tooth exchanged worried glances and North opened his mouth to ask the star spirit what she meant, but at that moment a familiar sound emanated through the massive hall that caused all four of them to turn at once and fix their attention upon that mirror.

 _That sounded like a Nightmare,_ Jack thought wildly. It had only been a faint echo, but he’d heard those cries more than enough times to recognize them nonetheless.

“What—” Jack began, but Tooth cut him off with a cry of, “Bunny, don’t!”

The Pooka had sprung forward at the same moment they heard that noise, and he dashed straight for the Sun Woman. Instead of taking the steps, though, he slid on all fours around the mirror so that he came to an abrupt halt right in front of it. He rose up slightly to get his first good look at whatever he’d been straining to hear ever since they arrived, but whatever it was alarmed him so greatly his emerald eyes grew enormous.

“Call them back!” he shouted, swinging his head around to glare up at the Sun Woman. “Call them back now!”

“Why?” Her voice was as calm and as cool as ever.

“You have no right to do this!” The Pooka’s furry face became absolutely livid and spit flew everywhere as he shouted, “She’s your bloody _daughter,_ for Moon’s sake!”

“It is _because_ she is my daughter that it is entirely within my right to dispense punishment as I see fit.”

Jack had never seen Bunny look so enraged. Not even the blizzard of ’68 had pissed him off this much. The Pooka actually lashed out, kicking that mirror so hard that it fell to the floor with a deafening bang. The glass cracked spectacularly, but even so the other Guardians could see what the star spirit and her courtiers had been watching (and what Bunny had been so fixated on). Sandy’s little hands went to his mouth, North and Tooth both exclaimed in fear and alarm, and Jack dashed forward, putting his face close to the damaged image as if a better look could somehow dispel his disbelief.

The mirror showed Starfire and Pitch, standing back-to-back in the trees somewhere outside his lair. She had her staff, he his scythe, but as desperately as they fought they were steadily losing ground to four of the Sun Woman’s fire-men. It was still late afternoon back on Earth, and Pitch’s strength was drained almost completely by the blinding sun. The fire-men, on the other hand, were in their element, wielding their fiery whips with deadly precision. It was all Pitch could do to avoid getting caught in one of them, and even Starfire was having difficulty. Her plants were in abundance and she wielded them with expertise, but as they all caught fire under the fire-men’s assaults they were next to useless and she constantly had to summon new ones. As weak as Pitch was (and as susceptible as he was to the sun’s fire) she was essentially fighting for both of them, and Jack could see that she was quickly becoming exhausted from the endless volley of rapid spell-casting. More and more she was being forced to rely upon her white fire, but as she wasn’t a true fire spirit her flames couldn’t do more to her mother’s servants than momentarily deflect their ferocious whips.

There were Nightmares as well, screaming in defiance as they tried desperately to defend their accosted masters. But under the immense power of the star spirit’s servants, and without shadows or darkness of night to help them, all they could do was selflessly dash in the way of a whip that happened too close to Pitch or Starfire. The immense heat of the flames instantly transformed their black sand into glass, and all it took after that was a flick or pull of the wrist for the fire-men to effortlessly shatter those glass Nightmares into thousands of tiny little shards. So many Nightmares had been lost to such a fate that the battleground shimmered and shone as if the earth was scattered with countless black gems. There were perhaps four or five of the sand-creatures left, and Jack knew that once they were gone it would only be a matter of time before Pitch and Starfire were overwhelmed.

“You sent your people after them?!” he shouted in disbelief, his head jerking up to fix horrified blue eyes upon the Sun Woman. “You didn’t even know what was going on! You didn’t even know the truth until we told you!”

“It did not matter what the truth was. Even if the rumors proved to be false, what good is a spirit whom others disrespect so greatly that such repulsive stories did not die upon the first ears that heard them?”

“ _What_?!”

“I gave my daughter the opportunity to return home and explain herself before me. Even if she was somehow foolish enough to have been seduced by the spirit of fear, I was willing to forgive her should she ask it of me. She refused to come, as I suspected she would, but even so this presented the perfect opportunity for me to teach the spirits of the Earth a valuable lesson.”

“What lesson?” Bunny snarled. “What can you possibly hope to communicate by attacking them like this?!”

She evaded the question. “My daughter was not ‘attacked’ _._ My orders were for her to return to me, that she chose to resist is not of my own doing. Her stubborn opposition only delays the inevitable.”

“Tell us!” Jack insisted. In his anger he straightened up and, clutching his staff tightly in both hands, actually pointed the weapon at the Sun Woman. “Tell us what you meant by teaching a lesson!”

Golden eyes flicked over the frost spirit, seeming to pay no mind to the fact that he was openly threatening her now with his staff. “I simply chose to use this moment to teach all spirits, great and small, that there are consequences for those who defy my will. I warned that so-called Nightmare King about meddling with what’s mine, in _any_ form, and what do I get in exchange for my tolerance? He _defiled_ my own daughter!” Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “There is only one punishment befitting such a crime.”

“You can’t destroy him!” North shouted, his booming voice echoing around the hall.

Her gaze swiveled to fix upon the Russian. “Can’t I? Spirits such as he have been destroyed many times in the past. They get it into their minds that they are too important to ever be sent to the void, but I can assure you that they are not. Fear is invaluable to the humans, yes, but that does not mean that Pitch Black is significant. Your precious Moon can always pick another to take his place. An act long overdue, if you ask me,” she added with a slight shake of the head.

“You don’t understand!” Tooth held out her hands in a silent, desperate plea for the Sun Woman to listen. “You can’t destroy Pitch, he and Lilliana are bound by the rite of _Terminum Aeternum_! If you destroy him your daughter will go to the void with him!”

The Sun Woman stiffened a little at the mention of the rite, and for a fraction of a second a look of horror flashed across her face. It seemed _that_ particular detail hadn’t reached her yet, and Jack felt a surge of hope. Maybe there was a chance they could talk some sense into that stubborn old star spirit.

That hope was fleeting, however. After that brief moment of surprise the Sun Woman let out a little sigh, and just like that she’d slipped right back into that detached countenance. Cool and collected, she replied simply, “Be that as it may.”

“How could you?!” Tooth cried out as Jack cursed and furious Russian flew freely from North’s mouth. The little fairy looked close to tears as she asked in disbelief, “How could you possibly say something like that?!”

“Pitch Black deserves to be punished for the countless crimes he has committed, including attacking and nearly destroying you Guardians only weeks ago! Moon may be loath to take such action against him, but I am not! That my daughter was foolish enough to bind herself to such a wretched being is _her_ responsibility to bear, not mine!”

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” Bunny shouted. His paws were clenched into tight fists and he shook with the force of his fury. “Can’t you see how wrong this is?! They are _bound,_ Sun Woman, the celestial spirits have already recognized their union! It is no longer your place to judge them in this!”

“Do you see any celestial spirits moving to stop me?” The Sun Woman actually paused for a moment as if she were waiting for some sort of divine intervention. When nothing happened, she informed the Pooka, “It would seem that I am not so far out of place as you might think.”

Jack thrust an accusing finger out at the Sun Woman as the truth finally dawned on him. “That’s why you called us here! It didn’t really matter to you what we had to say, you just wanted us here so we couldn’t intervene!”

“Cleverly deduced, little spirit.”

“Jack, Bunny!” North called, and the two dashed back to the others as the big man pulled a snow globe from the pocket of his folded coat.

“Try all you want, Guardians,” the Sun Woman encouraged with a slight curl to her mouth. “You are powerless here!”

But they had to try, and try they did. North shook the globe and smashed it on the floor, but nothing happened. Undeterred, he pulled a second globe from his coat and Jack yanked a third from the pocket of his hoodie. Sandy desperately waved his hands about in the air to summon a cloud of dream sand to carry them away, but all he could manage were a few scattered wisps. Bunny kept rapping his foot against the floor to try and open up a tunnel, but just like the others none of his efforts were working.

Then, just as North was about to smash the third globe, a blinding silver light surrounded the Guardians. Jack was stunned not only by the unexpected appearance of that light, but also by the sudden feeling of weightlessness he was experiencing. He looked down and saw that he and his friends were being lifted off the floor towards the ceiling.

Almost as if he were hearing it from far away, he caught wind of the Sun Woman shouting furiously, “Stay out of this, Moon!”

But the silver beam of light only grew brighter and they were slowly lifted higher. As the image of the Golden Palace began to blur and fade around them, the Sun Woman’s voice became fainter and fainter even as she screamed.

“She’s my child, my own flesh and blood! It is well within my right to demand retribution for what that wretched spirit did to her!”

In spite of all that had just transpired, Jack felt a twinge of pity for the Sun Woman. There had been real emotion in the star spirit’s voice just now, and it left him seriously wondering if—despite that regal, indifferent demeanor—the star spirit actually did care for her daughter more than she let on. If so, then it was a true shame that she was so reluctant to show it, and even worse that the manner in which she’d chosen to regain her daughter’s supposedly slighted honor was so blatantly excessive.

Under Manny’s power, all five Guardians were quickly freed of the Golden Palace. Beyond the patch of light there was only darkness, and though Jack tried hard to move he found that he couldn’t. For several long moments he and his friends hung suspended in empty space, unable to move or speak and barely able to breathe. Then a voice broke the silence, gentle but commanding, and though Jack had never heard it spoken aloud before he recognized it instantly.

“Go quickly,” Manny’s disembodied voice instructed them. “Go quickly and help them!”

The light instantly vanished and just like that they were back on Earth, able to see and move again. With an “Oof!” Jack and the others landed hard on the ground, though it didn’t hurt too badly as the fall had only been a few feet. Shaking his head to clear the lingering haze, the frost spirit looked up to discover that they were in the woods outside of Burgess. They’d all been deposited within sight of the pond, which was no longer frozen but lapping gently against the banks.

“Come on!” he cried, leaping to his feet and snatching up his staff. But as the others clambered to join him, Jack felt his stomach clench hard before dropping right down into his toes as a gut-wrenching shriek of pure agony echoed deafeningly around them.


	13. Battle

“Come on!” Jack shouted again, and used his staff to summon the wind. It blasted him along in the direction of that scream, Bunny hot on his tail as the Pooka sprinted after him on all fours. Tooth soon caught up, as did Sandy, and North surprisingly managed to keep the pace in spite of his bulky body. He’d swiftly redonned his coat and was now armed with his swords, bushy brows drawn together in grim determination as he dashed through the trees with the other Guardians.

It was easy to locate the battleground; all they had to do was follow the sound of whooshing flames and cracking whips. It lay in a small clearing beyond the pond, nearly a quarter-mile from the sealed entrance of Pitch’s lair. As far as the eye could see the earth sparkled from the light reflected by thousands upon thousands of tiny glass shards—the only remaining evidence of Pitch’s Nightmares. Bunny had to pay mind to all those sharp pieces (much to his frustration) lest he accidentally cut his paws open…at least until Jack helped him out by blasting a path clear with his wind. He was pretty sure he heard the Pooka mutter “Thanks mate,” though he couldn’t be sure with the wind whistling in his ears. The four fire-men stood in a cluster with their backs to the Guardians, their attention centered on what appeared to be a thick wooden dome. Pitch and Starfire were undoubtedly concealed within it, for Jack couldn’t see either of them anywhere and the Sun Woman’s servants were striking that protective shell over and over again with unsettling precision. A long black scar marring the otherwise flawless wood exposed both the skill of the fire spirits and their plan to slowly but surely wear through the surprisingly sturdy defense to their hiding targets.

Jack swallowed hard before gritting his teeth and flying faster. He didn’t know for sure who it was that had screamed, for he’d been too dazed from Moon’s magic and too shocked by the actual sound of the scream to really pay attention to the inflection of it (and he was too scared to ask sharp-eared Bunny for details), but the presence of Starfire’s magic at least assured him that the pair was still alive. Yet he knew that it was only a matter of time before that protective cocoon inevitably broke under the force of that relentless assault, particularly if Starfire was the one who was injured.

 _They may not have intended to hurt her, but she could’ve taken a blow for Pitch,_ Jack thought. _She’s less susceptible to burns than he is, so she’d definitely help him in that way if she could._

Without stopping or slowing down, he shot a quick glance up at the sky. Judging from the faint pink tint in the atmosphere it was perhaps four or five o’clock, meaning there was at least another two hours before sunset, when the fire-men would be forced to retreat. Starfire’s defenses would crack long before then, even if she was the one presently uninjured. They’d have to settle this quickly.

With a defiant shout Jack blasted the fire-men with ice. The Sun Woman’s servants stumbled a bit under the force of the assault, but were otherwise unharmed as the intense heat of their bodies melted the blue shards into useless puddles. Still, it served as enough of a distraction that the four turned their heads and focused their attention upon the Guardians instead of the cornered spirits. Jack and his friends rushed forward, blatantly ignoring the instinctive screaming of their bodies to run _away_ from those powerful spirits rather than towards them. Now was not the time for cowardice! Calling a powerful gust of wind, the frost spirit struck the fire-men yet again so that they flew backward into the trees. They didn’t go far, but it was enough for the Guardians to plant themselves firmly between the wooden dome and the star spirit’s servants.

“Starfire! Pitch!” Jack called over his shoulder, but there was no response from inside that protective shell. Grinding his teeth, he swung his staff through the air as the fire-men recovered, blasting them yet again with ice and snow. Sandy assisted as best he could (given he was still pretty weak due to the lingering sunlight), using Jack’s attack as cover for his own sand whips. Steam rose in thick clouds from the fire-men’s bodies as the icy blast hit them and melted, and an angry hissing filled the air. One caught Sandy’s whip right to the face, but Jack’s immense satisfaction at seeing the expressionless thing wince was short-lived as it just shrugged off the pain. Worse, the whip came away with the tip turned to brittle glass, just as Pitch’s Nightmares had been. With a silent growl, Sandy cracked the whip sharply against the ground to break off the glass then lashed out again, determined not to let his temporary weakness stop him from participating in this fight. 

The others weren’t fairing much better. Tooth and North were doing what they could, but with swords alone their effectiveness was severely limited; they just couldn’t get close enough to do real damage without getting singed. So the pair resorted to acting as defense for the other three, using their blades to fend off lashing fire-whips while Jack, Sandy and Bunnymund did their utmost to keep the fire-men at bay. Bunny, upon realizing that his boomerangs weren’t of much use, rapped his foot against the ground and called up his stone eggs. While the massive things lumbered forward, taking blows from the fire-whips without even flinching (thankfully the powerful fire didn’t seem strong enough on its own to damage the thick rock), the Pooka threw his colorful egg-bombs. The unique combination of blinding explosions and the stubborn march of giant stone figures helped push the fire-men back, but Jack knew it still wasn’t enough. Those servants were smart, and even as he blasted another with his ice he saw one, and then a second, slip from the fight to try and circle around the Guardians. They were surprisingly quick, though Jack did his best to slow them down by turning the ground beneath their feet to ice. Their hot feet just melted a trail, though, and in no time the Guardians were surrounded.

“This isn’t working!” he shouted irately, staving off another whip assault with a blast of icy wind. Slowly but surely those fire-men were pushing forward again, and in spite of the Guardians’ great effort they soon found themselves with their backs pressed right up against Starfire’s wooden shell. He growled in frustration as a whip made it over their heads and cracked against the wood, making it groan and sending a hail of hot sparks raining down on their heads and shoulders. 

Jack leapt up on top of the dome, using his ice and wind to stop any more attacks from striking the wood. From this new vantage point it became abundantly clear to him that the fire-men weren’t really interested in defeating the Guardians. Their orders were to destroy Pitch and take Starfire back to the Sun Woman (obviously they didn’t know about the _Terminum Aeternum_ rite, which would make following those orders to the letter completely impossible), and they were determined to see those commands through. To them, the Guardians were just nuisances, and they would ignore them if they could.

With a cry of alarm Jack jerked his foot out of the way at the last possible second as a whip nearly struck his ankle. That was the closest yet he’d gotten to the fire-men’s weapons, and after feeling the intensity of that heat Jack’s concern over the safety of the two hidden spirits swelled considerably. _If Pitch took a direct hit from one of those…_ He shuddered to think of it.

 _Hold on, you two,_ he thought, but the silent encouragement was cut short as he was forced to deflect another attempted strike from the fire-men.

“Jack!”

For a heart-stopping second Jack felt as if he’d died all over again. Hearing his name suddenly called out like that, and in _that_ voice, shocked and scared him just that much.

It _couldn’t_ be…!

“ _Jamie_?!”

Sure enough, it was Jamie, accompanied by his friends. It was after school, and as Jack’s brain struggled to make sense of the kids’ presence there he quickly realized that they must have been playing somewhere nearby, overheard the ruckus and decided to investigate.

The six of them ran towards the Guardians, slipping and sliding in the mud that had been kicked up by the battle and Jack’s melted ice attacks. Panic swept through him and he shouted, “Jamie, stay back!”

The kids stopped, and Jack was forced to duck a fire-whip. When he glanced back again, Jamie had a look of immense confusion on his face; it took a moment for the frost spirit to understand why.

The boy and his friends could see the Guardians, but not who was attacking them. All they could see were the five of them grunting and shouting and dancing wildly about in a supposedly empty clearing.

“You guys need help?!” Jamie called. Jack actually shook his head a little at the question. _Always the stubborn one._ Then he sobered.

“No!” Jack blasted one of the fire-men with wind, knocking it back a few feet. “Stay back, you guys, it’s not safe!”

“It wasn’t safe last time!” Caleb argued while Claude elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Ow!”

“Does it look like it’s safe to you?!” Claude asked, gesturing towards the Guardians.

“I-I’m for going home now,” Monty stammered, but just as he turned to go Cupcake pushed him out of the way, effectively stopping his retreat. She faced the Guardians with her fists clenched stubbornly.

“Let us help!” she hollered, while Jamie and Pippa shouted agreements. The three of them started down the hill.

“No!” Jack hollered. “Stay away, they’re fire spirits!”

“Really?” the twins asked in unison. “Cool!”

At that moment Jack wanted to slap himself, for he saw Jamie get that look on his face like he was trying really, _really_ hard to believe in whatever Jack and the others were fighting.

_If they start to believe in them then the fire-men will become more powerful and…and they’ll be able to touch the kids!_

With horror, Jack realized the folly of what he’d just done. In trying to convince the kids to leave, he’d actually made the situation a thousand times more dangerous for them.

“Go home!” he cried desperately, but it was already too late. Jamie gasped, his eyes growing absolutely huge and moments later Pippa and Cupcake were also left shocked by what they could now see.

“Woah!” Jamie exclaimed.

“What are you—” Caleb began but Claude interrupted.

“ _Woah_! Awesome!”

“What?!” Caleb asked again, feeling left out. “What is it?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, though, he exclaimed in shock and delight as he caught sight of the fire spirits, and judging from the way Monty yelled and ducked behind Cupcake it seemed he could see them now, too.

“Need help?” Jamie asked, repeating his earlier question.

“ _No_!” Jack insisted even as he had to do a funny mid-air twist to avoid getting caught in a whip that was brought down hard against Starfire’s wooden dome. An ear-splitting crack echoed through the clearing, making the six kids jump.

Jamie was starting to look pretty scared as he watched the Guardians do their best to fend off the four fire-men. It was clear that he understood now just how different this situation was from the one with Pitch and his Nightmares. That time Pitch had only been trying to scare the kids so as to destroy the Guardians; this time there was a very real danger that he and his friends could get seriously hurt…possibly even killed.

But after a few moments of stunned silence in which he stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed, the boy got that stubborn frown on his face and started to run straight for Jack. The others soon followed, Monty rather reluctantly and the twins still bickering about something absolutely pointless.

“It’s not safe!” Jack repeated but those kids just weren’t listening. They charged forward, dashing to bravely plant themselves between the Guardians and the fire-men. In horror he watched as one of the whips lashed out for Tooth…only Pippa was now standing directly in the way.

“ _Stay away_!” Jack screamed in horror, but then to his immense shock the fire spirit seemed to suffer a momentary panic. Not only did he jump back a bit, but he was so hasty in his attempts to break the strike before it could land on the girl that he actually _dropped_ his whip.

_What?!_

“Jack!” Tooth shouted as she used her dagger to knock aside a fire-whip that was aimed at Bunny’s sensitive ears. “They’re spiritual servants, like my fairies and North’s yetis—they’ve all sworn oaths to do no harm to the people of Earth!”

_…oh?_

“Can they break those oaths?!” Jack called to Tooth, and the fairy answered swiftly.

“No! They’d be sent to the void immediately and the Sun Woman would be punished for keeping oath-breakers in her company!”

_Oh!_

He watched, completely dumbfounded, as the four fire-men withheld their attacks for several minutes, casting indecisive looks at each other as they paced restlessly before the assembled spirits and children. Just as Tooth had indicated they’d be, the fire-men were clearly loath to come anywhere near the kids. As humans the six of them were far more susceptible to damage from those fiery bodies and weapons than any spirit was, and it seemed the fire spirits just weren’t willing to take that risk. They looked almost pained as they struggled with the need to obey the Sun Woman and the inability to break their oath, apparently at a loss as to how to go about honoring one without breaking the other.

Jack’s mind raced as he considered the implication of this new knowledge. Even if the fire-men were willing to risk their own honor, there was absolutely no way they’d _ever_ risk the Sun Woman’s. That meant that they wouldn’t take up arms against the children, for _any_ reason. For them, personal failure would be the lesser of two evils by far.

But even so, Jack didn’t want the kids any more involved in this fight than they already were. No matter how low the risks were he simply wasn’t about to turn Jamie and his friends into literal human shields. Not only would that be extremely wrong, but the kids might still get hurt on accident. Yet it was obvious from their behavior that Jamie and the others weren’t going to just walk away from this fight until it was over and they were satisfied that the Guardians were safe.

So what if…?

The idea came to him suddenly, and while it scared him at first the more he pondered it the more he realized that it was something that would actually satisfy the kids’ stubborn desire to help while simultaneously ensuring their safety.

_This…this just might work!_

“Jamie!” Jack called from atop the wooden dome. “You guys, come here quickly!”

The six of them obeyed, dashing over to the Guardian even though they clearly had no idea what it was Jack was standing on. His mind worked through that problem, too.

_They can’t see or touch it because they don’t believe in Starfire, and getting them to understand would take too much time…_

Coming to a quick decision, Jack used his staff to build an igloo-like structure around the shield Starfire was maintaining. It wouldn’t last long in the afternoon sun, particularly if the fire-men got their hands (or whips) on it, but it would do for now as the kids could all see and touch it.

“Here,” he called, lifting Monty by the back of his lightweight spring jacket so that the kid yelped and nearly lost his glasses. Depositing the boy on top of the ice dome, Jack yelled, “Sit up here so they can’t get to it!”

“Get to _what_?!” Jamie asked, always demanded answers.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jack promised as he hastily pulled the other kids up to join Monty. “Just stay here and don’t move, no matter what!”

He then created a second, larger ice dome to surround the kids, one that was quite thick so as to ensure that they didn’t get hurt…accidentally or otherwise. With that complete he swung around to rejoin the battle, for the fire-men had resumed their assault the instant the kids were out of the way.

Bunny’s stone eggs joined forces and managed to surround one of the fire-men. The spirit lashed them again and again with his whip, trying in vain to force them away. Jack seized the opportunity and concentrated his magic on the fire-man’s feet, striking at his ankles with a gust of wind so powerful the spirit’s legs were knocked out from under him. He landed hard on his face, and the moment he was down one of Bunny’s eggs tipped forward and crushed the unsuspecting fire-man underneath its heavy body. The helpless thrashing of limbs indicated that the spirit wasn’t dead, and before Jack could even smirk with satisfaction he saw the trapped fire-man reach out and plant his palms firmly against the egg. Within seconds the rock beneath those hands began to glow red-hot. The frost spirit made to blast it with his ice but stopped himself just in time when he remembered that icing up hot rock would cause it to crack. The heat alone would break the egg eventually, but for now at least there were only three fire-men to deal with.

Glancing up at the sky, Jack saw that it was growing darker and that the sun was finally beginning to set. _Just a little more,_ he thought. _Just a little more and we’ll have made it!_

A whoosh of magic caught his attention, and he jerked his head to see what it was. To his surprise, it was a portal, and then he remembered that North hadn’t broken that last snow globe back at the Golden Palace. Instead of using it for the Guardians, though, North had smashed it on the ground right beside one of the fire-men, who turned his head ever so slightly to determine the nature of that sudden surge of magic. Remembering the assault on Pitch’s lair when they’d done something similar to Starfire, Jack used his ice and wind to knock the fire-man back into the portal, which closed swiftly behind him. Jack wasn’t entirely sure where North had sent the star spirit’s servant, but wherever he was he wouldn’t be getting back anytime soon.

_At least not before sunset._

Now there were faced with only two fire-men, as the fourth was still pinned beneath that egg (which was now completely red from intense heat but still stubbornly immobile). North’s use of the globe had given Bunny a similar idea, and the Pooka began opening tunnels near the fire-men while the other Guardians tried to force the fire spirits down them. After witnessing what had happened to their comrade, though, the Sun Woman’s servants quickly caught on to the plan. That made it extremely difficult to catch them unawares. It took nearly twenty minutes just to get one down, but when they finally managed it Bunny swiftly sealed the entrance before the fire spirit could clamber back out again. Trapped within the gloomy Pooka tunnels, Jack knew that the spirit would be forced to head to the exit on the opposite end, wherever that happened to be.

Just like the one before that had been forced through North’s portal, the fire-man wouldn’t be returning in time to participate in the rest of the battle.

The last standing fire-man, realizing that he was alone, suddenly turned his back on the Guardians. But just as Jack dared to think that the spirit might actually be beating a retreat, the spirit instead used his whip to shatter that red-hot stone egg, freeing his companion. The rescued fire spirit recovered swiftly, and just like that they were back to facing two of the Sun Woman’s servants. North cursed in Russian and Bunny spouted similar things, albeit in heavy Australian slang. Jack didn’t have any idea what either of them was saying, but he shared their sentiments anyway.

 _One step forward, two steps back,_ he thought in bitter frustration.

Luckily, the slow-setting sun meant Sandy was steadily growing stronger. Gathering his strength, the little yellow man created a thick cloud of dream sand around the two fire-men, and Jack supported him by adding snow and ice-pellets to the mix. In the few moments the two fire-men were disoriented and fighting to escape the blinding cloud, Bunny took the opportunity to open a tunnel right beneath their feet. The two dropped down into the hole, and though one managed to catch himself on the edge a sharp crack across the knuckles from Sandy’s whip was enough to break his grip. The second he dropped down, Bunnymund sealed the entrance. A little red flower sprouted right above the place where the spirits had vanished, almost like a cheeky good-bye gift. Jack would’ve chuckled over it if he wasn’t so damn tired.

Now that the fire-spirits were gone, the intense heat and offensive pressure within the clearing finally began to die down. A sudden hush fell over the place, and Jack breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Worn and weary, and panting far too hard to actually speak, the others took their turn nodding to one other in silent confirmation that they were okay.

Still, they couldn’t start congratulating themselves just yet.

“Jack!” Jamie called. Looking over, Jack saw that his ice wall had almost completely melted and that the dome the kids were sitting on wasn’t fairing much better. He flew over to them and brought them all to the ground, banishing the rest of the ice with a wave of his staff.

“Thanks for helping,” he said earnestly, staring down at Jamie, “but you kids had better get home.”

“But you guys are still in trouble, right?” Jamie argued as he watched North and the others gather together. He couldn’t see exactly what was going on, but the Guardians were hacking away at Starfire’s wooden dome. Under the assault of swords and boomerangs the thing slowly began to crack.

“We’re fine now,” Jack assured him, casting a nervous glance over at the dome. He didn’t know what state Starfire or Pitch were in right now, and after the recent attack on the kids’ dreams he just didn’t want any of the children around either of them.

At least not until they all had a chance to sit down and figure out just what the hell was going on and finally put all the secrets and (possibly) past differences to rest.

“Please go home, Jamie,” Jack insisted. “I promise I’ll come explain everything to you guys as soon as I can.” He let out a short breath of exasperation as the boy set his mouth stubbornly. “Besides, it’s getting late and your parents will worry.”

“Let’s go,” Pippa said, taking Jamie’s elbow. “If he said they’ll come tell us, then they’ll come.”

“Yeah, plus I think something really bad has happened,” Monty mumbled, staring with wide eyes at the other four Guardians. He couldn’t see what was happening any more than Jamie could, but with a quick glance Jack saw that North had managed to jam one of his swords into the crack, and he and Bunny were now straining to pry the wooden shell open with brute force. Swallowing hard, Monty adjusted his glasses nervously and added, “Maybe we should go home.”

“Go,” Jack encouraged. “I _promise_ the moment this is over I’ll come see you.”

“But…but everything is okay, right?” Jamie asked. Concern for his spirit friends was written all over his face and laced through every word.

“We’re okay, Jamie, and so are you guys. This…” He hesitated, struggling to come up with a means of explaining that would suffice until he had the time to tell the story properly. Running a hand through his snowy hair, Jack finally settled with, “This is spirit stuff, okay? Two spirits got into some trouble and we had to help them. It won’t hurt you kids or anyone in Burgess, so don’t you worry.”

Jamie still didn’t look completely convinced, but he nodded his head anyway and allowed himself to be pulled away by Pippa, who still had him by the elbow. Jack watched the six of them trudge away, making sure they were really going home and not just pretending to so as to avoid upsetting the Guardians.

Once he was certain they had listened, Jack flew over to help the others.

“Move,” he said, and the other Guardians all dutifully stepped back. Gripping his staff tight, Jack sent a concentrated blast of ice right for that gap Bunny and North had been struggling with. It opened the crack wide and split the dome with such force that it shattered, scattering pieces everywhere.

As soon as it was clear, Jack and the other Guardians made to dash forward, but with a shriek a lone Nightmare emerged, snapping at Jack’s face. The frost spirit leapt out of the way, calling, “Hey, hey, now, easy.”

The sand creature snorted and stamped, but made no move to get closer. North even poked at it experimentally with one of his swords, testing the creature’s mood, but apart from snapping half-heartedly the mare didn’t budge. It was acting weird, sort of…listless, its head hanging and sides heaving as if it just couldn’t catch its breath. And it didn’t take more than a moment for Jack to notice (with no small degree of concern) that the Nightmare was losing sand in steady streams from all over its body and that its golden eyes were very pale, almost as pale as Sandy had been back at the Golden Palace.

_Oh no._

Jack and the others moved as one to approach the place the fading Nightmare was struggling to protect, but another shriek stopped them all dead in their tracks.

“ _GO AWAY_!”

Jack was stunned by the emotion in that voice. He’d seen—and heard—Starfire cry before, but those angry tears back in the Warren were nothing compared to this. She sounded broken, absolutely devastated, her breath hitching around powerful sobs that shook her entire body.

…and that could only mean one thing.

With a gentle gust of wind Jack lifted himself up and over the lethargic Nightmare, bringing him within feet of the flora spirit.

“ _Go away_!” she repeated, that scream just as desperate as the one before. She was hunched over on her knees and didn’t turn or even look up at him as he took a cautious step forward. Her staff lay forgotten on the ground, and with a lurch of the stomach Jack noted just how tiny that white fire had become. Normally grand and dancing lively within the obsidian claw, the thing had dimmed to a single tiny flame that flickered weakly in the gathering evening.

_It can’t be…_

Prying his eyes away, Jack continued to take slow, careful steps toward the sobbing flora spirit. She appeared to be cradling someone in her lap, someone with long legs that were shrouded in black robes and lying eerily still.

_Oh no…_


	14. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief description of serious burns/injuries and their treatment in this chapter.

Jack’s chest had never hurt this much. It felt as if his heart was being twisted relentlessly by some giant fist that had plunged in deep and just wouldn’t let go.

“Starfire,” he began softly, taking another step forward, but the flora spirit just screamed at him again.

“ _Leave us alone!_ ” She was barely understandable around her gut-wrenching sobs. “Just go away and leave us alone!”

Tooth flew past Jack and landed lightly beside the distraught spirit. Her hands went to her mouth and for a moment she was speechless. Then she regained her composure enough to put out a hand and lay it on Starfire’s shoulder. “Lilliana…”

“ _Go away_!” Starfire slapped Tooth’s hand away. “Ever since you got involved you people have only made things worse and worse! What more could you possibly want from us?!”

“Let us help, Starfire,” Jack said gently, floating over to join Tooth. He didn’t want to look, because he knew that if he did he’d never get the image out of his mind. But he looked anyway, and the moment he did, he fully understood the root of the flora spirit’s distress.

Pitch’s normally gray skin was very white and coated in a fine sheen of sweat around his forehead and neck. He was unconscious, and apart from the shallow, ragged breaths he drew he was completely limp and still in Starfire’s arms. The upper half of his robes had been almost completely burned away, and the rest had been pushed aside by the flora spirit’s anxious hands. His right arm, chest, stomach and sides (and, in all likelihood though Jack couldn’t see it to be certain, his back) were covered in hideous burns. The wounds were an angry red and tinged white in several places, and one particularly bad patch on his arm—where it looked as if he’d tried desperately to protect himself—was charred black.

He must’ve caught the full force of a fire whip, and with the way the weapon must’ve coiled around his body in order to make that many wounds it was a true miracle that the Nightmare King hadn’t been torn in half.

Starfire was an absolute mess. Her face was soaked with tears and she was close to hyperventilating as she struggled to breathe around powerful sobs. Her hands never ceased moving, and it wasn’t until then that Jack noticed the broken plants lying scattered and forgotten around them. The flora spirit had summoned a number of medicinal plants and combined the various saps and crushed leaves into a gel that she was smearing all over Pitch’s burns. With a hollow heart, Jack recognized that it was a useless effort, and he suspected that Starfire knew it too.

But that didn’t stop her from trying.

“Just go away…” Starfire’s voice had dropped to a distracted whisper, almost as if she were talking to herself rather than to the Guardians. She wouldn’t look at any of them, as her attention fixed entirely upon Pitch’s injuries. “Just go away and leave us be.”

“Here, sheila,” Bunny said, appearing at Jack’s elbow from a tunnel so unexpectedly that the frost spirit nearly leapt out of his skin. The Pooka held a small ceramic jar in is paw, and Jack wondered exactly when he’d disappeared to the Warren. He hadn’t even seen Bunny leave.

Taking the lid off the jar, the Guardian of Hope withdrew something round and the size of a marble and held it out for Starfire. “Use this.”

Like she had with Tooth, Starfire slapped the Pooka’s paw away, causing him to drop whatever it was he’d rushed to the Warren to retrieve.

“What do you want from us, rabbit?!” she spat, lifting tear-filled green eyes to fix him with a ferocious stare. “You’re happy this happened, aren’t you? You’re _happy_ that we’ve become like this!”

“There’s no point making him suffer,” Bunny countered just as fiercely, blatantly ignoring the flora spirit’s antagonistic comments. He undoubtedly recognized, as the others did, that they were driven by grief and pain more than real anger. He pulled another piece of medicine from the jar. “At least help him with the pain, Starfire. Even _I_ can grant him that mercy.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Starfire clutching Pitch tightly to her chest. Then she reached out and snatched the medicine. She slipped the little round piece between Pitch’s lips and carefully pressed it to the back of his throat with one finger. Then she massaged his neck, gently but persistently, to force it down. It seemed even the simple act of swallowing was impossible for him right now. Jack and the other Guardians watched in silence, Tooth weeping silently while Sandy and North hung back with somber expressions.

Jack didn’t know what kind of medicine it was or what it was supposed to do, exactly, but after a few moments there didn’t seem to be any change to Pitch’s condition. The frost spirit slipped quietly to North’s side and whispered so only the Russian could hear, “Is there anything else we can do to help?”

The big man shook his head slowly, eyes downcast. “’Fraid not, Jack.”

“But…but surely there’s another spirit who can…”

“There _are_ spirits who heal,” North acknowledged very softly, “but none that will help. They all hate Pitch.”

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. “But we can’t just…we can’t just let them die.”

North shook his head again. As he did so, Jack heard the softest of whinnies and looked over just in time to see that failing Nightmare disintegrate into black sand. Like a broken cloud the sand drifted through the air for a few moments before scattering uselessly upon the ground. His heart plunged down into his toes.

“North—” he began, but the big man put a large hand on his shoulder.

“It’s too late, Jack,” he rumbled softly. A tear slipped free and dripped down into his beard.

Jack had never felt so hopeless, so helpless. Not even when his staff had been snapped in two. He’d done it to save Baby Tooth, after all, so as useless and forsaken as he’d felt it hadn’t been entirely without cause. But this…this just seemed so senseless, so _wrong_. Pitch Black was a wicked spirit, yes, one who’d done many terrible things, but this sort of treatment simply didn’t fit the crime. There hadn’t even _been_ a crime. The Sun Woman had simply used his relationship with her daughter as an excuse to finally fulfill her vendetta against the Nightmare King.

 _The one_ good _thing he does in his existence and he gets punished for it._

The thought absolutely sickened him, and Jack wiped his sleeve across his eyes as the tears started to flow. It felt incredibly weird to be crying over the Boogeyman, but at the same time it felt terribly appropriate. Even Bunny, who hated Pitch _and_ Starfire more than anyone else there, just couldn’t find any sort of satisfaction in seeing the two of them suffer this sort of fate. The Pooka remained crouched on the ground, ears drawn back as he sadly watched Starfire weep over Pitch’s body.

“Lilliana.”

Jack was jerked out of his gloomy thoughts by the sound of that voice. His arm dropped to his side and he stared, wide-eyed, at the spirit that now stood directly before the kneeling Starfire. He was the silver to the Sun Woman’s gold, but rather than majestic finery he was dressed simply in trousers and a tunic. His hair was close-cut and he had a well-groomed goatee, and to Jack’s eyes the face seemed to belong to a middle-aged man.

He knew who that spirit was without even having to ask.

Starfire looked up, and as she met the newcomer’s gaze her lip trembled ever so slightly.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice soft but harsh. “You come to gloat? To rub your victory in my face?!”

“You know I would never do that to you.” Manny regarded the broken pair with immense sadness in his eyes. “I swear, Lilliana, I never wanted any of this to happen. If I’d had _any_ notion that Saulė would do this, I would have been far more direct with you.”

Starfire made a face that Jack assumed was supposed to be a sneer, but with her tears and her gasping breaths (which had finally begun to quiet) it just looked like a horrible grimace. She bowed her head and turned her attention back to the spirit in her arms. “Just go away,” she whispered. “Just go away and let us be! You’ve toyed with us enough!”

“I’ve come to take him to the Pool.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw North straighten with sudden interest and at the same time Bunny’s ears perked. Manny continued, “But I need your permission.”

“No!” Starfire actually did snarl that time, eyes narrowed with distrust. “You just want to destroy him! You just want to make him disappear!”

“You know I don’t need the Pool for that, Lilliana,” Manny said softly.

Jack blinked, then rubbed his eyes hard and stared in disbelief. All around the edges of her body, Starfire had gone mysteriously blurry, like he was looking at her through a wet, foggy piece of glass. With a start, he saw that Pitch, too—still immobile and completely unaware—was starting to blur.

_They’re…they’re disappearing!_

Starfire still looked indecisive, torn between the undeniable fact that Pitch was dying and her immense distrust of Manny and the Guardians. In the end, though, her love for Pitch and the desperate need to save him won out. It seemed that if there was _any_ chance that Manny’s intentions were benign, then she as willing to seize upon them as tightly as she could.

“Okay,” she whispered at last. “Okay…but I’m going with him.”

“Of course you are,” Manny murmured, as if he’d been planning on having her go all along. He raised his hand, and the eight of them were bathed in silver moonlight. Glancing up at the sky, Jack _finally_ noticed that the sun had set and that the waning moon had finally begun to rise. He experienced that strange weightlessness again as he, the other Guardians, Starfire, and the gravely injured Pitch were all lifted into the sky by Manny’s magic.

* * *

She didn’t want to trust them, especially that twisted, meddlesome Moon-man. It was all his fault, after all, ALL HIS FAULT! Every. Last. Thing! If only he’d kept his fat mouth shut, or else just done away with her and Pitch quickly so that neither of them would have had to suffer like this. What sort of sick, perverse satisfaction did he get out of drawing out the inevitable end in this way?!

But she _had_ to trust them. She didn’t have any other choice. Pitch was suffering, and she couldn’t bear it a second longer. Lilliana would have taken every single one of those wounds and every last bit of that pain into her own body if she could, but it was impossible. Without healing magic, covering his wounds with salve was all that she could do, and after that all she was good for was sitting there on the ground clutching his limp form as he slipped further and further away. She simply couldn’t stand being so weak, so utterly helpless. The _one_ time her love truly needed her and she was absolutely useless to him. It filled her with such guilt and grief it was nearly overwhelming, and that was what drove many of her powerful sobs.

That was also why when Moon-man made the offer, she accepted it. She hadn’t wanted to trust him, not after everything he’d done, but if there was _any_ chance that this decision would save Pitch then she knew it had to be made.

Besides, Moon-man was right: she and Pitch were already fading, so what else was there to lose?

 _Please hold on,_ she thought desperately, clinging to Pitch and pressing her forehead to his so that her tears washed over his unnaturally pale face. _Please,_ please _hold on!_

Moon-man transported them to his realm without a fuss, and Lilliana was glad to see that he’d taken them directly to the Pool. Bathed for eternity in endless moonlight, the Moon Pool was considered something of a holy site among spirits, for the naiads that dwelled within it had the power to perform miracles. Typically gentle and serene, they could heal a spirit’s grave wounds, preventing them from falling into the void. But they could just as easily suck a spirit’s essence and drain them of their power until there was nothing left. It all depended upon one thing, and one thing alone: whether or not they believed the spirit in question was worth saving.

Still unsure as to whether or not Moon-man meant well by bringing them there, but without any other choice, Lilliana began to strip Pitch of his ruined robes. A flutter of wings reminded her that the Guardians had been brought along as well, and that damned fairy landed nearby to try and help her.

“Don’t,” Lilliana snapped, slapping the fairy’s hands away.

_None of you will touch him. Not ever again!_

The fairy looked solemn, but acquiesced, leaving Lilliana to finish her work. There was a lot of material, but as most of it was already burned or shredded anyway it was relatively easy to be rid of. Thankfully so, for she could tell from the gathering tension in Pitch’s body that even the slightest movement aggravated his fresh wounds, causing him excruciating pain.

Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, Lilliana tossed aside the last piece and used her own bare foot to deftly remove his shoes, leaving him in just his pants. At that point, the rabbit took a step closer and murmured, “Let me help you, sheila,” clearly meaning to help her lift Pitch into the Pool. But he stopped when Lilliana glared at him.

Holding Pitch tight and still fully clothed, she reached back with one leg and cautiously put her bare foot into the Pool. Warm water immediately surrounded her skin, and for a moment she waited, half expecting naiad hands to suddenly break the surface and snatch her ankle with the intent of dragging her to her death. When nothing happened, she didn’t waste another second and stepped back with the other foot, planting both carefully on the bottom to ensure she didn’t slip. Then, with tremendous care, she eased Pitch’s limp body into the silvery water.

The Pool was surprisingly deep; just one step inside and she was already up to her chest in crystal clear water. Towards the middle she had to crane her neck and hoist Pitch’s shoulders high in order to keep their heads above the surface. But there was a small rock visible on the far side, the only object marring the pristine perfection of the Moon Pool, and she made for it, slowly backpedaling until she felt her calves and heels brush against stone. She sat down, leaning up against the edge of the Pool for more support. Now the water only reached her armpits, and with Pitch’s head nestled into the crook of her arm it was easy for her to keep his face above the surface. The rest of him was fully submerged, his wounds somehow appearing larger and angrier through the film of water than they did in dry air. Black hair floated around his head like an ominous cloud, and Lilliana found herself swallowing another lump. _If this doesn’t work…_

Shaking her head to clear the discouraging thoughts, she lifted her eyes from the still, broken figure in her arms and waited for the naiads to appear. Even though the water was clear enough for her to see straight to the bottom, she couldn’t spot any of the water spirits. She stared hard, but for a long while nothing stirred. Not even a ripple disturbed the tranquility of the Moon Pool. She realized then that the naiads must have the ability to fade in and out of physical form at their discretion, just as wind spirits did.

Even if she couldn’t see them they were there, and they were watching. Of that much she was certain.

Sure enough, after a few moments of tense silence that was broken only by Pitch’s shallow breathing, there was a ripple. Then the water dispersed a little as the top of a female head poked out of Pool, enormous silver eyes staring fixedly at Lilliana. Lilliana stared back, knowing better than to move or speak. Even if Moon-man asked the naiads to help, she knew that it was ultimately up to them to decide whether or not to listen. Though the naiads technically dwelled within Moon’s realm, they were not actually servants or assistants of his. Rather, Moon-man had built his realm _around_ the naiad’s pool with the explicit agreement that he’d protect them from those who wished to abuse and misuse their power. Or, worse, attempt to subjugate the naiads themselves. The water spirits were immensely powerful, yes, but they were also incredibly vulnerable, for their essence was literally bound to the Moon Pool. They could never leave the silver waters or else they’d fade away into the void. Such specific circumstances obviously left them susceptible to manipulation or even enslavement, but Moon-man’s presence and power prevented any _one_ or any _thing_ from taking advantage of them.

It also stopped anyone from going to the naiads for aid unless they got on their knees and begged Moon-man to allow them access to his realm. He acted kind and generous, but really his protection of the water spirits was just another ruse, another form of spectacular manipulation as he and he alone got to decide who, if anyone, got to approach the Moon Pool.

 _I just know he’s going to hold this over us for the rest of our existence,_ she thought bitterly, but swiftly banished it when she saw those silver eyes narrow. She remembered then that the naiads were telepathic, that the heart and mind any spirit who entered the Pool was theirs to explore. Such power enabled them to pass judgment upon their visitors, determining for certain whether a being was worth saving or better off devoured.

At that very moment, Lilliana and Pitch were being closely examined…both inside and out.

Focusing her attention upon those large, staring silver eyes, the flora spirit directed her thoughts towards the naiads as clearly as she could. _“Please._ Please _help him. I know he has done some wicked things in his existence, but he is not truly evil.”_

She thrust at them all of the memories she had of Pitch. All the times she’d seen him laugh and smile, and just how gentle he could be when he wanted to. She even shared the times he annoyed her just to get a wicked chuckle from her reaction, because she secretly loved it. She showed them the time he’d given her their special place out west where she now kept her trees, the library he’d made for her and all the other gifts he’d presented her with over the passing centuries. They were few in number, but every single one held the weight of his love inside of them. She even recalled, for their benefit, the night Pitch had finally broken down and told her all about the terrible things he’d done in the past, long before he knew her. Yes, he wasn’t sorry for most of them, but that wasn’t what really mattered right now. What mattered was that he’d shared them all with her freely and honestly, in spite of the fact that he’d known there was a significant risk she could become disgusted with or frightened of him once she knew the full truth. He could have kept those stories from her forever, or even twisted the telling in order to make himself appear more favorable or pitiable, but he hadn’t done any of those things. He’d shared with her every grim detail because he’d wanted her to know and accept all of him, not just the parts he thought she’d like. He loved and trusted and respected her that much.

And when she’d finally broken down and told him about _her_ past, including all the things she’d kept secret from literally every other spirit in existence, there had been no hate, no scorn, and no judgment. He’d held onto her while he listened, giving her the strength to make all those painful confessions, and when she was through he’d kissed her gently and whispered, “Thank you for telling me.” He hadn’t said a single word more that entire night, but as close as they were pressed she’d felt every thump of his heart and hitch of his breath and knew that he’d felt the same pain in listening as she had in telling. His quiet acceptance had meant far more to her than any pacifying words or pity-driven comfort, and had cemented in her mind the belief that she would never, _ever_ find another spirit that she’d want to be with more than Pitch Black.

She was about to show them more when a slim silver arm reached up out of the water and lifted dainty fingers to caress her face, effectively putting a stop to her barrage of memory recollection. More of the naiad appeared out of the Pool, shoulders and a neck and a head covered in long damp hair. She was stunningly beautiful in an ethereal sort of way, but there was a definite childlike appearance to her round face and overly-large eyes.

The naiad trailed her fingers along Lilliana’s skin once again, a gentle smile slowly spreading across her lips. Then she turned her head to gaze down upon the wounded Nightmare King. The hand on Lilliana’s face dipped below the water’s surface to touch Pitch’s body, tracing lightly from his collarbone down to his navel. The flora spirit instinctively knew that the naiad was examining his wounds, but even so she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealous anger at seeing another female touch his body in that way.

It wasn’t until the naiad giggled that she realized that the water spirit had picked up that thought, too. In a voice that was soft and airy, almost like a dove’s cooing, the naiad’s response echoed gently in her mind.

 _“It is all right, child of the Sun.”_ She touched a single fingertip very lightly to Pitch’s left shoulder, indicating the symbols there without actually touching them. _“I can see you love your husband dearly.”_ She then lifted her gaze (and her finger) to Lilliana’s shoulder. _“I also see how much he loves you. His vows to you are beautiful.”_

Lilliana didn’t know how the naiad could even _see_ the symbols let alone read them thanks to her sleeves (and she was more than a bit upset over having them known regardless), but they’d apparently been enough to convince the water spirit to help, and that was really all that mattered.

 _“Thank you,”_ she thought, and the naiad smiled warmly.

 _“Just relax, child of the Sun. We shall heal him. You…”_ she trailed the backs of her fingers down the flora spirit’s cheek again, _“…just see to your own health.”_

Lilliana frowned. _“I’m fine,”_ she asserted, which for some strange reason made the water spirit giggle.

* * *

As soon as Starfire entered the Moon Pool with Pitch, Bunny put a paw to Jack’s shoulder and indicated that the pair should be left alone. Jack followed the Pooka and other Guardians out of the chamber and into a nearby room. The atmosphere was extremely heavy, and though his mind was filled with questions Jack just couldn’t bring himself to ask any of them. He settled onto a stone bench and sat with his head bowed, staff cradled loosely against his shoulder. Tooth found a seat beside him, but neither of them spoke or even looked at each other. Jack just couldn’t shake the image of a burnt, unconscious, fading Pitch Black from his mind. He never would’ve imagined that the imminent death of his one true enemy would sicken and depress him so much, but it did. His hatred of Pitch and dislike for Starfire were at war with his conscience, leaving him incredibly confused and conflicted inside.

 _It’s just not right,_ he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat. _This wasn’t about the kids. This wasn’t about protecting ourselves or helping anyone else. This is just senseless death._

The sound of quiet footsteps prompted him to lift his head. It was Manny. As he approached the assembled Guardians, North stood up and moved a step closer to meet him.

“What news?” he asked in a quiet rumble.

“It’ll take some time,” Manny replied. “The naiads said two or three days.”

“But he’ll heal?” Bunny asked, needing the confirmation.

“Yes.”

The Pooka looked relieved, but Jack didn’t know why. Bunny just wasn’t acting like himself lately. First giving that medicine to Starfire, then looking comforted now that he knew Pitch was gonna pull through. More than anyone he should be pleased that the Nightmare King was so close to the void and disappointed that he was going to avoid it.

He smiled weakly on the inside. _None of us are acting the way we should._

Jack suddenly realized that Manny was looking at him. The moon spirit came towards him, and Jack stood up, thinking that it was the polite thing to do.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jack,” Manny said, and reached out a hand. Jack shook it, but his stomach fluttered nervously.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. Manny chuckled quietly.

“It’s all right. No need for formalities here.” He found a seat on a bench opposite the one Jack and Tooth were using. The frost spirit sat down again without once taking his eyes off Manny.

After a brief moment of silence, the moon spirit sighed quietly. “I suppose you all have a lot of questions.”

The Guardians nodded, but were loath to speak. None of them wanted to be the first to ask.

Tooth finally broke the awkward silence.

“So you knew about them, then?” she asked quietly.

Manny nodded. “Yes. But only for a few weeks.”

Jack frowned. “So about the time you picked her for a Guardian?”

“Yes.”

“How long before that did you know?” Bunny questioned. He, too, was frowning.

“A couple of days.”

“That’s…but that would mean you found out around the same time we were fighting him to protect Jamie and the other kids.”

Manny nodded, and Jack heard North suck in a quiet breath.

“Did you know before that?” Jack asked, his words unintentionally sharp, but Manny either didn’t take notice or didn’t mind.

“No,” he insisted with a firm shake of the head. “No, I found out at the end. That night you brought him down at the pond—remember how the Nightmares came and swept him away?”

Jack and the other Guardians nodded.

“Lilliana was there. _She_ was the one who sent the Nightmares.”

North gasped. “What?”

“So it wasn’t his fear that brought them there?” Jack asked at the same time.

“No. Pitch was not afraid, not of you and certainly not of them. Lilliana was behind you, in the trees, where he could see her but you could not. He recognized her plan and played along, knowing it was the only way he could safely get away from you.”

His silver eyes lowered to the floor. “The moon was full that night. I saw her there, clear as anything. I knew what was happening between them the very instant I saw the Nightmares obey her commands. Though they are false servants, forged from corrupted dream sand, they are bound by many of the same rules as our own assistants.” He nodded to indicate North, Tooth and Bunnymund. “They would never follow the orders of a spirit that was not their master…or their master’s spouse.”

“Then…then Guardianship,” North rumbled quietly, “is _not_ what you wanted?”

Manny looked up at the Russian and waved a hand briskly in the air between them. “Oh, no, I _do_ want her to be a Guardian.”

When North’s thick brows scrunched together in confusion, the moon spirit heaved another sigh and closed his eyes, turning his face up towards the ceiling. In that moment, Jack thought that the spirit looked both incredibly sad and far older than his appearance let on.

“As I told Lilliana,” Manny said softly with his eyes still closed, “I would have been far more direct with everyone if I had thought, even for a moment, that any of this would happen.”

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the five Guardians all staring intently at him. He sighed again, and said, “I suppose I had better tell you the whole story, otherwise you won’t understand. So I will explain everything, starting with how Pitch Black and I became enemies.”


	15. Turmoil and Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussions of depression and lack of self-worth, but nothing too detailed.

“Pitch Black wasn’t always the Nightmare King. When I first transformed him he was simply the spirit of fear and shadow, the one who managed the night and ensured that humans maintained a healthy level of caution. That’s why fear is necessary for them, you know; it stops them from growing too bold and helps them make more prudent decisions. Pitch wasn’t the friendliest spirit in existence, but even as a human he’d been like that so I hadn’t expected him to be any different after the transformation. Besides, spirits such as he who work and walk in darkness tend to be avoided by others and regarded with suspicion, so it was only to be expected that he had a really hard time becoming close with anyone. If that bothered him or not I never knew, for he never spoke of it. I was the only spirit with whom he ever communicated on a regular basis, and after a time I started to think of us as friends. Pitch once thought of us in that way, too, though he will never admit to such a thing now except to be mocking. We spoke regularly, and he would even come and see me here in my realm a few times each year. He was quieter back then, more subdued, but I didn’t mind and genuinely enjoyed his company. Apart from Saulė—who’d always had the means to do so, regardless—Pitch was the only one I ever permitted to come and go from this place at his own discretion.”

Manny drew a breath, let it out again. “Not long after his transformation, however, the human world started to undergo drastic changes. Normally such a thing wouldn’t concern me, as humans are always changing and adapting as they try to ride out the great pendulum that is life, but it soon became clear to me that the population of the Earth was falling into a period of extended darkness.”

“Dark Ages,” Bunny mumbled, and Manny nodded.

“Pitch was excited about it, of course. I think any spirit would be. He’d never possessed that much power, and it was just so _easy_ for him to get it—simply by being in Europe he swelled with strength at a truly stupendous rate.”

He shook his head sadly. “After a few decades I started to notice the changes in him. He wasn’t just becoming more powerful, he was also becoming more vicious, crueler. Instead of simply collecting the natural fear that humans felt, he was actively tormenting them and delighting in their frightened cries. He gave them terrible dreams and haunted them with visions of frightening monsters that lurked in the shadows, ready to devour them. He’d even begun to call himself the Nightmare King, as if he was _proud_ of his newfound ability to corrupt children’s innocent dreams and plague them with fear night and day. I told him to stop but he brushed my cautions aside, assuring me that he was just enjoying himself while he could and that he’d get bored of it eventually. I didn’t like that answer, but I admit that I accepted it. I accepted it because I believed him. Every spirit goes through a phase like that, after all, a time when they reach beyond their usual morals and principals and start taking advantage of humans’ weakness. I believe humans refer to it as a ‘rebellious phase’, or some such thing,” he commented with a dry smile, which faded quickly. “But Pitch’s phase never ended. It only grew worse and worse, and as decades upon decades continued to roll past I became increasingly concerned, especially since he spoke to me less and less often during that time and came up with all sorts of excuses to avoid coming to my realm. I didn’t like that. I didn’t like how he’d gone from being so open and communicative with me to abruptly shutting me out of his existence. I did my best to keep an eye on him and continued to hold onto the hope that eventually he’d grow tired of his ridiculous Nightmare King charade, but of course such a thing never happened.

“About halfway through the ninth century, he suddenly came to see me. It had been a long, _long_ time since he’d stood in my presence and I was shocked by the changes in him. He’d become absolutely bloated with power, and that disturbed me deeply, but what was even harder to witness was just how dramatically his character had changed. Before he’d been quiet and watchful, preferring to quietly observe and leave most of the talking to me, but during that particular visit he was loud and boastful and animated, swinging his hands about in wild gestures as he described this grand plan he had to _keep_ the humans in darkness. He told me that keeping them weak and afraid was _better_ for spirits, that it would make it easier for all of us to obtain power and belief from them. I realized then that he wasn’t seeing them as humans anymore, but as cattle, as mindless, soulless creatures that were to be preyed upon for spirits’ benefit.

“I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe just how much he’d changed in such a short amount of time, and it frightened me. I told him that I wouldn’t participate in such a thing, under _any_ circumstances. I reminded him of his place, of his true duty as a spirit and of the reason all spirits existed within the world. We need humans, yes, but they also need us, for while their belief gives us strength, our power in turn keeps their hearts and minds in balance. I told him that forced belief isn’t belief at all, and that to subjugate them in that way would invalidate the very foundation upon which our existence is built. Besides, I knew what it was he was really doing. He claimed it was for everyone’s benefit, but really it was for his own. If _he_ was the one keeping humans afraid, if _he_ was the one using fear to keep them in line, then other spirits would be beholden to _him_ , and him alone. He’d have an unlimited supply of power and belief, and from those he’d gain all the influence and prestige a spirit could dream of. He tried to pretend that his plan was built upon selflessness and logic, but in truth it was pure selfishness. He’d grown tired of feeling weak and insignificant, and the moment he saw the means and the opportunity to rise above what he once was, he seized upon them with both fists.”

Jack suddenly remembered Pitch telling the Guardians back at the Tooth Palace that he was “tired of living under beds”. He shook his head at the memory. It would seem that even centuries later Pitch hated being weak and feeling unimportant. Jack could sympathize a little, having spent three hundred years doing everything he could to bring winter to the world and make life fun for kids, only to have his every effort—not to mention his very existence—blatantly ignored. But still, world enslavement through terror seemed more than a little uncalled for.

Manny sighed quietly and folded his hands in his lap. “He…he didn’t take my words very well, as I’m sure you could imagine. Rather than help him see reason, my arguments and stern scolding only solidified his contempt for others, humans and spirits alike.” He bowed his head. “Pitch will never admit it, but he was devastated by my refusal. I could see it in his face, though he did his best to hide it from me. I was his only friend, and as such he’d expected me to be happy for him and to be proud of him. What he heard wasn’t a rejection of his plan, but a rejection of _him_. He was enormously pleased with what he’d become, but I was not, and he couldn’t stand it. He flew into a rage, accused me of trying to manipulate him back into his weaker, more submissive state, and even went as far as to claim that I had been subjugating him and that I was scared of losing that control over him. Nothing I said made any bit of difference. He just would not see reason. And when he finally left, I knew he wouldn’t be coming to see me ever again. I knew he considered our friendship to be over.

“Things on Earth only grew worse and worse as centuries passed, and Pitch continued to take advantage. Saulė insisted that I take swift action against him, but I was reluctant to do that. She mocked me as a weak-minded fool, and maybe I was, but in spite of all that had happened and all that continued to happen I just couldn’t bring myself to send Pitch to the void. I knew firsthand who and what Pitch Black used to be, and I _knew_ that there was still a very good chance that he could become that spirit again, if only he wanted to. I kept waiting and waiting, hoping that something would happen that would help him see reason and make him want to return to the way he used to be. But it just never happened, and in the end I knew I couldn’t afford to sit back any longer. Humans were suffering— _children_ were suffering—and one way or another I had to put a stop to it. That’s where you four come in.”

Manny nodded to indicate North, Sandy, Tooth and Bunny.

“By creating spirits who could counter Pitch’s darkness and fear, I knew that a healthy balance would be restored and that humanity would be freed of his influence. What’s more, I sincerely believed that in putting an end to his false reign without going as far as to send him to the void, Pitch would finally see the error of his ways and reconsider what it was he’d been doing over the past centuries. I thought if only he would take some time to reflect, perhaps he’d come to genuinely regret what he’d done and maybe even seek to make amends. I was more than willing to forgive him if he did.”

“Only he wasn’t one bit sorry,” Bunny growled. “He attacked us!”

Jack tore his gaze from Manny to glance at the Pooka. He was shocked to see a bitter, angry look on the other Guardian’s furry face, and it was clear that Bunny was recalling many dark things that he’d much rather forget.

“He did,” Manny admitted quietly. “Rather than give him pause, your presence only made Pitch more determined than ever to hold onto his self-appointed position. He knew that if he was to have any chance of staying in power he had to be rid of you four, and quickly. Your hope and light were already sapping him of his strength; the longer you existed the stronger you became and the weaker he grew. Driven by anger and desperation, he launched his assault against you, but by working together you four bested him and he was forced to flee Europe. The enormity of the loss he suffered that night—not only in terms of power and belief, but also his shattered pride—drove him into the depths soon after that.”

His voice drifted off towards the end, and a long silence descended upon the group. Those silver eyes were very distant, and Jack knew that Manny’s mind was focused on events that had happened many, many centuries ago.

After a while, the moon spirit took a breath and straightened a little in his seat, ready to continue with the story. “He still emerged from time to time, but as he was so weak there wasn’t much he could do besides feed off of ordinary fears and touch a few dreams. As long as he didn’t torment anyone more than absolutely necessary, I was willing to allow him that. Kids will always have bad dreams, after all; learning to overcome them is just another part of growing up. So causing a few more every couple of years was, in my mind, not overly concerning. Besides, apart from creating a handful nightmares he had essentially reverted back to performing his regular duties as the spirit of fear and shadow, so it wasn’t as if I could justify taking action against him at that point. He took great care to stay out of my moonlight, but keeping an eye on the children of the world was easy, especially thanks to you.”

He smiled up at the Guardians.

“So even when he did sneak out of his realm I knew that whatever it was he was doing wasn’t all that bad, otherwise you would’ve taken notice.”

The smile faded from his mouth, and Manny looked almost thoughtful as he continued. “But there was something that confused me. Even if I tolerated his movements, I always maintained the suspicion that he would try and exact revenge against you Guardians and try to regain his previous position as Nightmare King _._ Over time, there were many events that took place in the human world that would’ve offered him an extensive hand in regaining the power he needed to make such vengeance possible: wars, famines, genocide, mass-hysteria, rampant disease…all the things that fill humans with unbridled fear and panic, all the things that the transformed Pitch Black loved. Yet he did not take advantage of them. The earlier occurrences he undoubtedly ignored in the hopes that I would grow complacent and start turning my attention elsewhere, but the ones that occurred later on…. Even the terrible, senseless killing that swept the world in the thirties and forties did not lure him in. Pitch didn’t even set foot in Europe during the entire course of that war, and I knew _that_ was something the Nightmare King just wouldn’t do; it was far too good of an opportunity for him to ever pass up. I knew then that something was definitely going on with him, but I just couldn’t figure out what it was. Not only was he being far more careful on the increasingly rare occasions that he did emerge from the depths, but he was spending more and more of his time locked away inside his realm, which simply did not make sense to me to matter how much I pondered it.”

“It was Lilliana,” Tooth said quietly. “Pitch met her a long time ago, but by that point they were…”

“Yes. That is what I came to suspect after I saw her in the woods that night. But at the time I knew only that there was some sort of plan, that there was _something_ keeping him from taking advantage of such dark events, and that whatever it was it couldn’t possibly be good. That’s why…” He drew a shuddering breath. “That’s why when he appeared Burgess I encouraged you Guardians to take swift action against him.”

Bunny frowned, his ears pulling back as he regarded Manny with confusion. “You say that like you made a mistake.”

“In a way…I think I might have,” Manny admitted softly. He scratched at his silver hair and stared off at something unseen in the far corner of the room. “Now that I have had time to reconsider everything that happened, including Lilliana’s rescue of Pitch, I cannot help but wonder if maybe there was something else going on, something none of us were aware of at the time.”

“What else could there be?” North questioned, and Bunny spoke up again almost immediately after.

“He went to the Pole to instigate us, then tortured the kids with nightmares and tried to have us all forgotten.” The Pooka’s voice was oddly toneless as he spoke, almost as if he were trying hard to remain impartial during this particular discussion. “He even kidnapped Tooth’s fairies and tried to trap Jack down at the Antarctic.”

Jack nodded in agreement. He’d told the others all about that particular trip (as well as the details of his little “visit” to Pitch’s lair) after things had calmed down and he’d had the courage to explain in full. They’d been far more understanding after that, including Bunny, though the Pooka still wasn’t happy about losing Easter.

Not that Jack could blame him.

“Pitch tried to take over again,” the frost spirit told Manny. “It wasn’t as if there was any other ‘plan.’”

“I’m not sure about that,” he replied calmly, stroking his goatee, “though we’d have to ask Lilliana to be sure.”

North frowned. “Have you evidence, Manny?” he asked in his thick accent. “Reasons to believe this is so?”

The moon spirit nodded. “I was just thinking…Pitch of the past was bold, yes, but only because he had power. When he was weaker he was far more cautious, both before and after he started calling himself the Nightmare King. But this time he came straight out of hiding, making that scene at the Pole to get your attention and outright _goading_ me before he’d even had the time to accumulate a significant amount of strength. That just doesn’t make sense to me. If he’d been truly serious about exacting revenge and destroying you right from the start, then why did he let us all in on that plan when doing so would be counterproductive? And why would he purposefully bring the four of you together when taking you on one at a time would’ve been much easier, especially after what had happened the last time he challenged the Guardians all at once?”

“What are you saying?” North rumbled. His dark brows had come together and he frowned deeply, struggling to make sense of what Manny was indicating. “You say…Pitch did _not_ want to destroy us?”

“Perhaps he did later on,” Manny told the big man. “But from the very beginning? I do not think so.”

“So what was the point of all of that, then?” Bunny asked, resting a paw on his hip. “Why go through all that trouble of riling us up if he didn’t have a reason for it?”

“Again, I do not know,” the moon spirit admitted reluctantly. “But there is far more evidence to support my theory.” He sat up very straight and looked each of them in the eye. “At the Tooth Palace, he took the little fairies captive when it would’ve been much easier and far less of a headache for him to just have his Nightmares kill them.”

Tooth shuddered at the very idea of her loyal and dutiful fairies being destroyed, but she stayed silent and hung onto every word Manny spoke as the moon spirit continued.

“Why would he take them captive if they were just going to disappear along with Tooth once she was forgotten? Besides, taking hostages means there’s always the chance they’d escape or that someone would manage to free them. So capturing them instead of simply killing them was far more trouble than he would normally go to.”

Bunny didn’t look convinced. “Maybe he just wanted to hold them in case he needed to negotiate if things went badly.”

“He _did_ trade Baby Tooth for my staff,” Jack pointed out, and the Pooka gestured at him in silent thanks for the support.

“Yes, this is true,” Manny conceded. “But there is also the matter of Jamie Bennett.”

Jack felt his breath catch in his throat. “What do you mean?” he croaked.

“After all the other children had lost faith in you, Jamie was the only one standing between Pitch and his victory. Had it truly been his intent to defeat you five, he would’ve done absolutely _anything_ to ensure that Jamie didn’t stop him. As events from the Dark Ages proved to me, Pitch Black is more than capable of truly heinous things when it serves some sort of purpose. Yet his attempts to scare Jamie Bennett weren’t anything close to what he could do to the boy if he so chose. A couple of Nightmares? Sinister words and a bit of shadow play?” He waved a dismissive hand through the air. “That’s nothing. If he’d been at all serious about his attack, he could’ve easily destroyed that boy’s mind with horrific visions and terrible hallucinations, forcing him to forget you. Heck, if worse came to worse he would have even killed the boy by pushing his mind into such a twisted, dark corner that the child willingly took his own life in an attempt to escape the torment.”

“He’d do that?” Jack gasped, his stomach twisting into a sickening knot at the mere thought of Jamie—or _any_ child—being put into such a horrifying situation.

“If he wanted to,” Manny confirmed grimly. “But he didn’t. As I said, he didn’t do anything even _close_ to that, which just doesn’t make sense unless you accept the fact that maybe—just maybe—having the Guardians disappear wasn’t his true intent all along.”

“What was point then?” North questioned. “If not to destroy Guardians, then why do it?”

“As I said,” Manny said with a bit of a sigh, “we’d have to ask Lilliana.” He glanced in the direction of the Moon Pool and added, “Just not right now.”

After a brief moment of silence, Bunny sighed heavily and shifted in place to get more comfortable. The Pooka looked like he was struggling to accept everything Manny was telling them and seemed desperate to get answers to the many questions that still burned within his mind. He spoke one of them aloud: “What’s that got to do with her being the next Guardian? She doesn’t even like kids.”

For some reason, Bunny’s words made Manny smile. “Yes, she isn’t fond of children, but as I recall neither were you in the very beginning. ‘Annoying little ankle biters’, if memory serves me right.”

Bunny chuckled awkwardly while Jack regarded him with raised eyebrows and the others either smirked or chuckled.

That’s _a story I got to hear,_ Jack thought with an amused curl to his mouth. Then his grin widened as he remembered how the Guardian of Hope had reacted to seeing Sophie in the Warren: incredulously demanding that _somebody_ do something instead of just doing that something himself, and acting like his Easter plans were going to be ruined by the presence of one little girl until Jack cooled his ears with one of his special snowflakes. A short bark of laughter escaped before he could suppress it, and Jack had to press his lips together hard and give Bunny his best wide-eyed innocent look when the Pooka glared at him.

Manny sat back in his seat and crossed one leg over his knee. Seriousness had settled upon his face once again and his smile was gone. He said to the Guardians, “When I saw Lilliana in the woods that night, it got me thinking. As I said before, Pitch hasn’t been acting anything like himself over the past few centuries, and while he _did_ attack you, his methods weren’t nearly as vicious and merciless as I would have expected. All this time I have been waiting and hoping that Pitch will revert back to the spirit—to the man—he used to be, and completely unbeknownst to me he practically has already. I don’t think it was intentional on either of their parts, but Lilliana’s presence proved to be the push Pitch needed to put aside the Nightmare King foolishness and take up his true duties as the spirit of fear and shadow. He obviously hasn’t _completely_ given up on the title yet, or he wouldn’t have attacked you and the children of Burgess, but I think that’s mainly due to the fact that he isn’t fully aware of the significant changes within himself just yet. But what if he was? What if he became conscious of those changes and willingly relinquished his position as Nightmare King? If he was to stop tormenting children and no longer posed a threat to them or to you Guardians…”

“We would not be enemies,” North finished, his eyes growing wide as understanding finally dawned on him.

“Which is fine, mate, but what’s that got to do with Guardianship?” Bunny prompted, still not persuaded in the least.

Manny regarded him with a small smile. “You see, Bunnymund, just as you have your hope, North his wonder, Tooth her memories, Jack his fun, and Sandman his dreams, Lilliana also has something at her center that both children and spirits require in order to maintain balance.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“Peace.”

“ _Huh_?!” the Pooka uttered, scrunching up his face in confusion.

“Consider this: each and every time Lilliana has crossed paths with you in the past week, all she wanted was to settle things in a mutually acceptable manner so that she could go her own way. She even told you, didn’t she? Over and over again she told you that she wants to be left alone, that she wants to live in peace. _Peace_ is what drives her, the need for calm not only within her own life but within the world around her. As a flora spirit this works out beautifully for her, for it gives her more than enough reason to avoid human populations. Humans are naturally troublemakers, are they not?” he said with an affectionate smile. “Young or old they always seem to find some reason to bicker or fight.” The smile faded. “Unfortunately, that’s becoming more and more of a problem lately, particularly for children. You’ve heard of it, I’m sure—kids who are being bullied and harassed and tormented by their peers, some to the point where they feel they have no other recourse but to take their own lives?”

The Guardians didn’t respond. They didn’t have to. They’d all seen it, had all witnessed it. They’d tried to help, they really did, but oftentimes by the time they arrived to intervene it was already too late; the child had lost faith in them and therefore could no longer hear their encouraging words or see their acts of kindness.

“Peace is actually a very broad term,” Manny continued. “It not only means physical tranquility, as in a lack of violence, but it also stands for the harmony that each of us needs to have within ourselves. This self-acceptance—or, if you will, peace of mind—is absolutely necessary for children in order for them to maintain a healthy balance, both internally and externally. If they cannot accept themselves exactly as they are, then there is no reason for them to wonder or hope or dream. They lose all sense of fun, all sense of purpose. They lose the ability to see anything except the enormity of their silent plight and the intense feelings of failure and isolation that stem from it, which is why they end up unable to see or hear or touch you. And that is where Lilliana comes in.”

Silver eyes slid from one Guardian to the next, ensuring that he had each spirit’s attention. “Lilliana’s childhood was anything but perfect. Saulė meant well, but her idea of mothering is a far cry from what you or I would consider a good, loving relationship, and it had a tremendously negative effect on her daughter. Lilliana had to really struggle to find even the slightest sense of importance and self-acceptance, which is part of the reason why she resents the Guardians so much. She hates the fact that you and the children of Earth are in a relationship where love and affection and caring and even simple interest—all the things she craved as a child and sought desperately as an adult—are freely given and received in abundance. What she doesn’t realize is that the very children she claims to detest are succumbing more and more frequently—and at younger and younger ages—to the same inner turmoil that she fought so hard to overcome. But unlike Lilliana, those children are not immortal, have no spiritual duties to occupy their minds, and have no means of escape should the populated world prove too much for them. For all intents and purposes they are trapped within the little shell that is their life, and while such a thing can be truly wonderful for those lucky enough to live happy, contented lives, for those who suffer it only adds to the helplessness and hopelessness that they endure each and every day. And that is precisely why I want Lilliana to become a Guardian. Because of her own past struggles, she now possesses the strength and the knowledge one needs to truly reach out to others and help them work through their pain and their confliction. The changes in Pitch are undeniable proof of her ability. Lilliana didn’t just accept him for what and who he is, she accepted him in spite of all the things that he is not, and that was what truly provided him with the means and the will to let go of the callousness and bitterness and envy that drove him into becoming the Nightmare King. He took up that role to fill a void inside himself, one shaped by centuries of feeling rejected and invisible and weak and misunderstood. But once he came to terms with the fact that he is simply Pitch Black, the spirit of fear and shadow, I think he started to realize that he doesn’t need a title or false reign in order to be significant. Lilliana gave him everything he had been craving and more, much more, which enabled him to make peace with himself once and for all.”

Manny smiled broadly. “If she can do something so remarkable for Pitch Black without even meaning to, then I believe she can do it for virtually anyone.”

Bunny had been listening intently throughout the entire speech, and when the moon spirit finally finished he shifted his large feet to get more comfortable. With emerald eyes fixed upon the ground and voice laced with doubt, he said slowly, “So you want the sheila to be a counselor?”

“Of sorts,” Manny affirmed with a nod. “I think the children really need someone to go to, someone who not only understands what they are dealing with because they’ve been through it themself, but will also keep their secrets, listen to them without judgment, accept them no matter what they’ve done or how they look or think or feel, and help them cope with the things that they believe even their friends or family are incapable of saving them from. Most families go out of their way to ensure their children’s happiness and safety, but sometimes even their best efforts just aren’t enough. I want Lilliana to provide the extra support that they need. Not only will it save the children, but it will also offer her a greater sense of purpose in her own life, one which I think she will grow to appreciate once she puts her hatred and distrust of us aside.”

A stunned silence fell upon the group. Jack’s mind was racing, struggling to keep up with his own train of thought as he poured over everything Manny had just told them.

_The Guardian of Peace? A counselor and mediator for children and spirits alike?_

It sounded ridiculous at first, but the more he considered it the more it made sense. Each and every time Starfire and the Guardians had come face-to-face, hadn’t Starfire insisted that they leave her alone? And when they refused to listen, hadn’t she tried to walk away from them? It was only after they’d stopped her from doing so that she’d become truly irate and turned her powers against them. She was an immensely proud and powerful spirit, and yet Jack now recognized that if she could avoid a confrontation, Starfire would choose to do so. He had assumed up to that point that the flora spirit’s words and actions had been driven by her immense contempt for the Guardians, but upon reconsideration everything seemed to fall in line with what Manny was saying. In her own strange, terse way, Starfire tried to maintain peace and order by keeping things as simple and straightforward and uneventful as possible. She obviously didn’t hesitate to take matters into her own hands if push came to shove, but even then she didn’t like to take things any farther than she absolutely had to. Jack recalled the times she’d wielded her staff against the Guardians and realized with shock that the flora had actually been extremely restrained in those attacks. Even back at the Warren when she’d been absolutely livid with them and, admittedly, was well within her rights to punish them for attacking and kidnapping her, she’d, what, shot a flame at them and made the ground shake? That was nothing. Her intent all along was to convince them to leave her be and then get out of there, nothing more than that, and it was only after they’d refused to listen to her that she’d used her power against them. It had been the same at the Pole. She’d whipped the yetis, yes, but she hadn’t even broken their skin. What’s more, both Jack and Bunny had outright attacked her during that confrontation, yet she’d deflected their attempted blows and literally nothing else.

The frost spirit’s eyes went wide as he remembered something else from that night. Pitch. Pitch had been there, hadn’t he, and he’d been watching. He’d _seen_ Bunny go after Starfire, but instead of launching an assault of his own he’d instead snatched Starfire away and teleported her to safety. Weakened or not, Pitch Black as the Guardians knew him wouldn’t have hesitated to wield a sand whip or scythe against someone who dared raise a hand to his wife. Yet he’d explicitly chosen not to. And if Manny’s theories regarding the recent attack on Burgess were to be believed, then the Pitch Black of today was really quite tame compared to how he used to be. When combined with everything else, it became clear to Jack that there was far too much evidence for it all to be a mere coincidence.

 _He’s right,_ Jack realized with astonishment. _Manny’s absolutely right. In terms of being a peacemaker, she’s perfect, and when you consider together how she struggled with depression as a child and everything she’s done for Pitch since they met, then it’s obvious that she’ll actually be great at helping kids._

But even as immense satisfaction swept through him with that newfound understanding, there was something still tugging at him, something he knew they couldn’t afford to forget.

“What about the Sun Woman?” he asked Manny. “Even if Pitch agrees to a truce and you make Starfire a Guardian, there’s no way the Sun Woman will just roll over and accept it.”

For the first time since Jack had known him, Manny’s silver eyes grew hard. “Let me deal with Saulė.”

“But—”

“Even if she refuses to see reason,” the moon spirit interrupted, “there are certain rules that she is bound to follow, just as I am. One of them is that she is not allowed to take action against my Guardians unless a specific crime has been committed. That’s why I was able to remove you from her realm in spite of her protests,” he explained. “You were being held against your will when no crime had been committed, so at that moment I was able to reach in with my power and free you in spite of the fact that it wasn’t nighttime yet so I was still relatively weak. If Lilliana accepts Guardianship then she will be granted the same protection, which, due to her bond with Pitch, means he will likewise be protected as Saulė will be unable to take action against him without it directly affecting her daughter.”

 _Which would be in violation of the rule,_ Jack thought, nodding in understanding.

“Anything else?” Manny encouraged, and after a bit North spoke up.

“What if Lilliana says no?”

“I don’t think she will,” Manny said, but there was uncertainty in his expression which belied his words. “After all, it will protect Pitch and enable the two of them to regain their freedom. They won’t have to live in secrecy anymore or keep a constant eye out for danger as we will no longer be their enemies.”

“Yeah, but is that enough?” Bunny asked, using his back foot to scratch at a spot on his neck that itched. “They don’t like us, Manny, _any_ of us. Besides, Starfire thinks we bribe the ankle biters instead of actually helping them. They’ll never agree to be on our side, especially if we tell her she’s got to help us with the same kids she’s been calling stupid and gullible this whole time.”

“There’s something else, Manny,” Tooth put in before the moon spirit could address the Pooka’s concerns. “Becoming a Guardian will help her protect Pitch, yes, but only in one way. Because of the types of spirits they are, neither Pitch nor Lilliana have had to rely on belief in order to maintain their existence, yet the rules of Guardianship make it perfectly clear that we _do._ If she becomes a Guardian, Lilliana will have to maintain children’s belief at all times, otherwise both she and Pitch will disappear due to their bond.” Her wings fluttered nervously as she finished in a soft voice, “I don’t think she’ll be willing to do that. The risk is far too great, especially with how many spirits there are that hold animosity towards Pitch. Word of their bond will inevitably spread with time, so they’ll undoubtedly worry that others will try to take advantage of her weakness in the name of vengeance.”

Manny frowned thoughtfully and stroked his goatee. After a moment he said, “I’ll have to think on that, but I am sure I can come up with a solution.”

“And if you can’t?” Tooth pressed, causing Manny’s frown to deepen.

“I _can_ ,” he asserted, firmly enough to cause Tooth to wince. “One way or another I _will_ make this work. It is in everyone’s best interests that it does.”

With that, Manny stood up. “It is night, and I have a lot of work to do. Sandman, Tooth, I will send you back down to Earth so that you may conduct your own duties. I will bring you back here before sunrise.”

The pair nodded silently (though Tooth still looked rather troubled), and followed the moon spirit out of the room. That left Jack, North and Bunny, all three of whom were lost within their private thoughts. After a while, the frost spirit looked up and saw that the two other Guardians were staring at the floor, their eyes glazed over as if they weren’t really seeing it. North’s elbows were on his knees, chin resting on his folded hands. He looked so preoccupied that Jack didn’t dare disturb him. So he floated over to Bunny instead.

“What’re you thinking?” he murmured, squatting down so that he and the crouched Pooka were at eye-level.

“I dunno, mate,” the Guardian of Hope mumbled, running a paw over his ears. “It makes sense yet it don’t make sense, you know? It sounds logical the way Manny puts it, but somehow I just can’t accept it.”

“Is it cuz you don’t like Starfire?” Jack asked, and the Pooka shook his head.

“No, mate. I didn’t like you, either, but you still proved yourself worthy in the end. I trust Manny’s judgment on that part, but unlike you the sheila just doesn’t like kids. Never has, and I just don’t see that changing anytime soon, you know?”

Jack nodded in understanding. On the other side of the room, North shifted on his bench.

“Doesn’t like spirits, either, but still found Pitch,” he commented, to which Bunny made a dismissive sound at the back of his throat.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, North, but this and that are different.”

North raised his head and met Bunny’s gaze squarely. “How so?”

“Well with kids it’s… You know with Pitch it was…” Bunny struggled to put his thoughts to words, and in the end he gave up, throwing his paws into the air. “Look I can’t explain _why_ I feel that way, but I just don’t like it! And I don’t think Starfire will, either, so I don’t see the point of debating it anymore!”

He bounded away, leaving a contemplative North and a rather confused Jack behind him.


	16. A Pooka's Mind

Bunny growled low in his throat and readjusted his grip on the pitcher he was holding. It was the second night that Pitch and Starfire had spent in the Moon Pool, and Manny had requested that one of them get the sheila to drink something. His specters couldn’t do it because they were busy assisting their master with his usual nightly duties, and besides, they couldn’t talk, so having a Guardian go would be better.

Or so he’d said.

Bunny suspected the moon spirit _also_ wanted one of the five to go so as to build stronger rapport with Starfire, but he kept such thoughts to himself. Much to his surprise and dismay, he’d been picked in the end for the rather thankless job of delivering the water and Manny’s message to drink it. Apparently the others thought that as the Guardian of Hope his presence would be the most appropriate, in spite of the obvious fact (which Bunnymund had brought up numerous times, all in vain) that he and Starfire had _never_ gotten along. From their very first meeting it had been hot sparks and angry, aggressive words, and Bunny simply couldn’t imagine this particular meeting going any differently.

 _Just walk in there, mate, deliver the pitcher and leave,_ he told himself sternly. _Even_ she _can’t pick a fight outta that, right?_

Knowing Starfire as he did, she probably could. He had to stifle a groan just thinking about it.

 _Guardian of Peace indeed,_ he thought irately as he hopped down the corridor towards the Pool chamber.

He’d made a point of avoiding the other Guardians as much as possible in the last twenty-four hours, sticking almost exclusively to the room Manny had loaned him in spite of the fact that the tiny space made him feel restless and a bit claustrophobic. He missed his Warren, with its warm sunshine, fresh air, wide open spaces, smooth grass, lush trees, and beautiful flowers. There was none of that here. Manny’s realm was nice enough in an ancient, mystical sort of way, but it was too stony and cold for the Pooka’s tastes, and just so bland with its monotonous gray and silver tones. He missed his dye pools and colorful scenery. He couldn’t wait to go home.

He heaved a sigh and straightened up, running a paw over his long ears as he continued along on two legs instead of three (as the fourth was holding that pitcher). He’d been avoiding his friends because he knew they’d want to talk to him about Starfire, and he just didn’t want to start into another conversation about her until he got some of his thoughts in order. They’d all been so willing to accept the idea of the flora spirit becoming a Guardian, but Bunny couldn’t. Like he’d told Jack, he understood what Manny had said and trusted the Moon spirit’s judgment, and yet there was this cold feeling deep inside of him that kept telling him it just wasn’t a good idea. Starfire had no experience with children. None. Plus she openly professed to disliking them. How could the others even consider allowing someone like that around children _alone_ on a regular basis? It just didn’t sit right with him. True, Bunny’s own fondness for children didn’t compare to that of the other Guardians’, especially Jack Frost’s, but he still genuinely cared for their well-being and had every intention of protecting them until the day he disappeared into the void. He couldn’t say the same thing about Starfire. Nobody could, not even Manny.

Then there was the matter of her being in a relationship with Pitch Black, the Boogeyman. The Nightmare King. Enemy of children and the Guardians alike. Surely someone who loved and protected a spirit like that had no business whatsoever being around children, no matter how perfect for the role Manny proclaimed them to be.

Bunny stared absently into the pitcher, watching the water slosh gently against the sides of the ceramic vessel as it jostled in time with his steps. Every spirit knew that he hated Pitch more than any of the other Guardians, but he had a very good reason to. The things he’d seen Pitch do to kids back in Europe during the Dark Ages absolutely sickened him. One particularly haunting memory refused to leave him, one in which a cackling Nightmare King stood atop a looming tower of black sand as he systematically terrorized a cornered pair of twins. Bunny had tried so desperately to help them, but he hadn’t been a spirit for very long and so belief in him was still quite fragile. By the time he’d gotten to those two kids they’d already lost their faith in him in the wake of those horrible monsters that stalked them from the shadows. He tried and tried to pluck them from the Boogeyman’s grasp, but they just passed right through him, and all the while Pitch Black had laughed at him, mocked him for his inability to save them. Worse, he’d taunted the poor ankle biters by telling them jovially, “Look, someone’s come to help you!” But even when those kids looked they couldn’t see Bunny anymore, and so it just frightened them more because they didn’t know what the Boogeyman was talking about.

Bunnymund felt his jaw tighten even as his paw clutched the handle of the pitcher in a vice-like grip. He’d never forget that night. Ever. The others knew of Pitch’s cruelty and had witnessed for themselves similar acts of viciousness, but they hadn’t seen _that._ They hadn’t seen the faces of those two kids as they cried and shook and struggled to breathe around petrified sobs. They hadn’t been forced to stand there and watch helplessly because the kids had already been terrorized into losing their faith in hope.

He’d never forgive Pitch Black. He _couldn’t_ forgive Pitch Black. What Pitch Black had done was simply deplorable and absolutely unforgivable.

And yet Bunnymund found himself wanting to forgive him.

That was what confounded him most. All these centuries he’d hated and loathed Pitch Black and wanted nothing more than to see the ratbag sent to the void, but now that unwavering abhorrence was being relentlessly shaken.

All because of Starfire.

He would have never believed it if he hadn’t seen Pitch’s memories. In fact, he _still_ couldn’t quite believe it, and he had seen it all exactly as it had happened thanks to Tooth’s power. There was simply no denying just how dramatically Pitch Black had changed over the course of a few short centuries, how he’d gone from the wicked and vengeful Nightmare King to a spirit who desperately wanted to love and be loved. It sounded sappy when he thought about it like that (so much so that Bunny’s lip curled in disgust), but it was true. Bunny had never imagined that Pitch Black could look at anyone or anything in existence with that much warmth in his eyes or softness in his face, and yet the Boogeyman regarded Starfire in that way. It was clear that he loved her and that he would do absolutely anything for her; his taking on a quartet of the Sun Woman’s servants in the middle of the afternoon just to prevent the flora spirit from being taken away was proof enough of that. And when Bunny really thought about it, Manny was right—Pitch hadn’t been nearly as horrid and cruel in his latest attack as he had been during the Dark Ages. If he’d been a rabid dingo before, he was hardly more than a riled pup now. Starfire had clearly changed him, something every spirit the world over had thought utterly impossible, and as much as the Pooka didn’t want to accept it he knew that he couldn’t deny it. He’d already allowed personal feelings to get in the way of a spirit’s becoming a Guardian once before, and his anger and bitterness had only driven Jack away right when he and the others had needed the frost spirit most. He knew it would be foolish to allow such a thing to happen again, and yet he just…he just… _couldn’t_ let it go. In spite of all the evidence staring him right in the face, Bunnymund just _couldn’t_ bring himself to admit that maybe—just maybe—it would be better for everyone to call a truce with Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, the Nightmare King, and accept Starfire as the sixth and newest Guardian.

After all, it just wasn’t fair. Pitch Black was one of the foulest spirits to ever walk the Earth and yet he was about to get away with _everything_. The other Guardians and even Manny seemed more than willing to just sweep the Dark Ages and the attack on Burgess and all the horribly cruel things the Boogeyman had done right under the rug, as if it had never happened. “Wiping clean the slate,” as North had put it, much to Bunny’s irritation. The Russian had said something similar when Jack had joined the Guardians, but this was an entirely different animal. Jack Frost had never tortured children. Jack Frost had never hunted or taunted anyone until they wept and begged for mercy. Jack Frost had never killed anyone. Bunny simply couldn’t understand how the others were so quick to forgive and forget when the Boogeyman had done absolutely nothing to deserve it except fall in love.

That was another thing…

Having seen Pitch’s memories, Bunny understood and accepted the fact that the Boogeyman hadn’t tricked the celestial spirits or misused the rite of _Terminum Aeternum_ in order to be bound with Starfire _._ As he’d told the Sun Woman, Pitch’s feelings for the flora spirit had been judged and found worthy of the bond so it was no longer anyone’s place to try and undermine that. And yet…in a way…Bunnymund still deeply resented him for it. Yes, he’d been judged, yes, he’d been found worthy, but… _why_?!Of all the spirits to earn the right to partake in such a deep, everlasting bond, _why_ did it have to be Pitch Black? Virtually any other spirit in existence would’ve been far more deserving, yet the celestial spirits had chosen the Boogeyman. Why? _Why_?! What could they have possibly seen in that wretched spirit that made them believe he was worthy of anything? And how could Manny and the other Guardians all see it, too, even though Bunny couldn’t?

As he approached the doorway to the Pool chamber, the troubled Pooka sighed and ran another paw over his ears. Maybe he ought to talk to somebody about it after all. Dealing with it on his own obviously wasn’t working; he was just running the same conflicted thoughts through his head over and over and over again. Maybe if he got another’s opinion it would help him understand their perspective—and his own feelings—better.

But who should he go to? North would just start an argument if he tried to talk to him, as he always did, and Frost was too young to understand the depth of what Bunny was feeling. He hadn’t witnessed the Dark Ages, after all.

That left Tooth or Sandy. Maybe one of them would have the answers, if they weren’t too busy working to spare him a few minutes. He didn’t want to be a bother.

With that decision fixed in his mind, Bunnymund stepped into the Pool chamber.

Starfire didn’t appear to have moved an inch since she entered the Moon Pool. The sheila looked exhausted and incredibly strained, and it was clear to Bunny that she hadn’t slept a wink. Her attention was fixed upon the Boogeyman’s immobile form, and for a long while the Pooka stood there, suddenly unsure as to how to go about making his delivery without causing a fuss.

 _No point stirring things up with her right now,_ he thought, eyeing the lines and shadows on her face that hadn’t been there before. _She’s already got enough on her mind._

The flora spirit wound up saving him the trouble of making a decision, though, for as he hesitated in the entrance she spoke unexpectedly.

“What do you want rabbit?”

Her voice was hoarse and she didn’t as much as glance at him. Bunny swallowed his concerns for her health, knowing as he did that she wouldn’t take it well if he put them to voice, and hopped forward.

“Manny wanted you to have this,” he said quietly, setting the pitcher down by the edge of the Pool within Starfire’s reach. Now that he was closer he could see the faint silver glow emanating from Pitch’s body, and a quick glance showed that the wounds were indeed healing. Some of the lesser burns were almost completely gone already, and yet the Nightmare King remained unconscious.

A mixture of relief and worry washed through him. The naiads’ magic was clearly working, so why hadn’t Pitch woken up yet? That question only confused the Pooka even more. Why was he worried about that wretched, tainted spirit? He shouldn’t be worried about him. He shouldn’t be _relieved_ that the naiads were helping him. If he was feeling happy about Pitch Black being spared a trip to the void, then wasn’t he just spitting right in the faces of all the Nightmare King’s victims?

 _Is that it?_ he wondered. _Do I not want to forgive him because I would feel guilty if I did?_

With his ears pulled back against his head, Bunny turned his attention back to Starfire and murmured, “Just drink it, sheila. No point in both of you suffering.”

She didn’t respond, but he hadn’t really expected her to. As he made to hop away, though, the sound of her voice suddenly arrested him.

“He didn’t mean it,” she mumbled, the words so quiet Bunny almost didn’t catch them, even with his sensitive hearing.

He stopped. About halfway across the chamber and still crouched on all fours, he turned to look back at the flora spirit, ears standing erect atop his head in order to hear her better. “What?”

“He didn’t mean it,” she repeated a little louder, though it was still barely more than a mutter. But Bunny could hear it plainly and listened with rapt attention as she continued, her eyes never leaving the Boogeyman’s face. “He hadn’t collected any fear in a long time. You people may not get it, but leaving those kids so happy and hopeful all the time makes it next to impossible for other spirits to do their work without breaking your stringent rules. He was starting to fade…so he didn’t have a choice but to go out and stir up some fear in order to replenish himself.”

She paused, and Bunny’s head cocked slightly to one side as he thought to himself: _She’s…she’s not talking about_ Burgess _…is she?_

He soon got his answer.

“I didn’t want him to go,” she continued on a whisper. “It was a full moon and it was so close to that stupid holiday of yours. But he didn’t think he could wait until after. He assured me that he’d be fine, that he’d just touch a few dreams and come right back, that even if Moon-man got angry with him he’d be long gone before you idiots showed up.”

Bunny was so shocked by this unexpected confession that he didn’t even get angry or indignant over the fact that he and his friends had been called idiots. Instead he asked quietly, “Why didn’t you stop him?”

She finally looked up, and he was stunned by the intensity of those green eyes.

“I didn’t want him to go,” she repeated, as if he’d already forgotten. “He knew I’d worry if I stayed, so he convinced me to go north and take care of some of the forests. It was spring, after all, and I hadn’t gone out in quite a while so a visit was long overdue anyway. He said that it would help keep my mind of things so I wouldn’t worry so much.” Her eyes lowed again and she shook her head sadly. “It was stupid of me to go. I should’ve stayed behind just in case something went wrong. But I went. Then out of the blue Ebony shows up and starts telling me all about this ridiculous ploy of his. That she didn’t like where it was going, but he just wouldn’t listen to anybody.”

“Who’s Ebony?” Bunny asked, not having any idea who that could be.

“One of the Nightmares.” She cast him a quick glance. “They have names, you know. Pitch taught me how to understand them so they could communicate with me.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t known that. None of the Guardians had known that, about the mares having names or that they had their own language and that it was possible for another spirit to learn that language.

_Manny’s right. They really are like other spirits’ servants, even if they’re false ones._

Like North’s yetis and Tooth’s fairies and Manny’s specters (which used telepathy to communicate), assistants and servants often spoke a language that only their leader could understand, which helped keep others from taking advantage of them and trying to command them. If Pitch had taught Starfire to understand his mares then that was a level of trust most spirits didn’t dare to reach with anyone else, even those with whom they were intimate. Bunny knew just how protective Tooth and North were of their assistants, as he felt the same way about his own, but Pitch was _far_ more possessive and selfish than the three of them combined. So for him to actually relinquish some of that unilateral control was astounding to the Pooka.

It took him a moment to realize that Starfire was still speaking. “I rushed back as fast as I could,” she was saying, “and when I got there the others told me what had happened. Apparently what had begun as a game just to toy with you idiots when your attention should’ve been focused on Easter had morphed into something far more sinister. He was in too deep by that point to just walk away from it. He’d already corrupted Sandman and the rest of you were on the verge of being forgotten, and I knew Moon-man would never forgive him either of those things. I tried to catch up with him to ask just what the hell he was thinking, but I was hampered the full moon. Besides, by the time I got home from the north he’d already gone to Antarctica to play with Frost, so our paths just never crossed. I waited around hoping he’d come home again so I could beat some sense into him, but he never did. The next time I saw him was when he was fleeing from you across the pond.”

“And you sent the Nightmares to help him,” Bunny finished. He was feeling a little sick, but he couldn’t quite understand why. “If it really was just a game,” he asked pointedly, “then why did he do that to Sandy? And why did he try to corrupt Frost?”

Starfire looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “If Pitch had been even the _least_ bit serious about corrupting Frost, do you honestly believe he’d have failed to do so? Frost is a mere three-hundred years old. Sandman is easily twice that and he crumbled like a dry leaf.”

Bunny growled low in his throat. “So that’s it, is it? He went after Sandy ’cause it was a challenge but didn’t bother with Jack ’cause it would’ve been too easy? That makes everything he did to them okay?! That makes everything he did to the _kids_ okay?!”

Shock instantly replaced his anger when he saw Starfire wince. She looked sad and even a bit guilty as she lowered her gaze once more. “I didn’t say he was blameless in this,” she whispered, and Bunny was surprised to note that her words were choked, almost as if she were on the verge of tears. “Only that he didn’t originally intend for it to happen. He just…he just got carried away.”

A long silence fell over the chamber, and Bunny realized that Starfire was done talking. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he ought to say something, but his mind was strangely numb. He hadn’t been expecting a confession from Starfire, and now that he’d gotten one he simply didn’t know how to react. The idea that Manny might actually be right about Pitch not taking his attack on the Guardians seriously was shocking to him. That Starfire hadn’t denied Pitch’s culpability in the matter was even more astounding. Rather than tell Bunny the story so as to try and clear her husband of blame, it seemed the flora spirit had done it so as to lay the past to rest once and for all. 

_Is she trying to clear the air in order to prevent something like this from happening again?_

It made sense. Seeing Pitch so close to death had clearly shaken her, and there was no doubt in Bunny’s mind that Starfire wouldn’t want to be put into a similar position ever again. It seemed she was doing what she could to settle past grievances in order to eliminate as many threats to her husband’s safety as possible, even if that meant swallowing her pride and making confessions before the one Guardian who hated her most.

 _Maybe Manny’s right,_ Bunny thought, watching the flora spirit cradle the Boogeyman tenderly in her arms. _Maybe she’ll make a decent Guardian after all…_

Frowning at the thought, he made to leave, but after only two short steps something tugged at his consciousness, prompting him to stop once more. His frown deepened. _What was that?_ He reached out with his power to see what it was, but no matter how hard he searched he couldn’t find it again.

Deciding that it was just his imagination, Bunny made to go but was stopped yet again by the return of that strange feeling. It was like the faintest of ripples playing at the edge of his awareness, and though he instinctively knew it wasn’t hope, he couldn’t quite figure out exactly what it was.

Bunny turned back towards the Pool, studying Starfire and Pitch with his fuzzy brows pulled together in concentration. He reached out again and again with his power, trying to hone in on that peculiar sensation. It was definitely there, but it was too faint and unfamiliar for him to identify precisely what it was. He quickly sorted through all the possibilities of what it _could_ be, tossing them aside one by one as he mentally ruled them out, and when he was through what he had left made his emerald green eyes grow very wide.

 _No,_ he thought wildly. _No it_ couldn’t _be…!_

But it _had_ to be. Although he couldn’t be certain because he couldn’t specifically identify what that feeling _was,_ he knew everything it _wasn’t_ and therefore there was only one thing it _could_ be.

The Pooka opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, deciding it was best not to bother Starfire anymore tonight than he already had.Still, he knew he couldn’t keep this to himself. It was far too important.

So instead of bringing the matter up to Starfire, he instead left the chamber calmly and silently, as if nothing had happened. But the second he was out of the spirit’s sight he set off at a sprint to find Manny.


	17. Waking

It almost felt like he was dreaming, but Pitch knew that couldn’t be right. He didn’t dream. At least not in the same sense that other spirits and even humans dreamed. _His_ dreams were what everyone else considered nightmares—dark and twisted and filled with horrid things that he took great delight in witnessing. This place was dark, yes, but it didn’t feel like a nightmare at all. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel like anything.

Just stark, empty blackness.

Normally Pitch didn’t mind the darkness, but this time there was something very peculiar about it. Rather than heightening his senses it was smothering them. He could hear nothing, smell nothing. He could see himself (he even held up a hand to make certain he could), but apart from that is eyes failed to detect anything. He was standing but he could see no ground or floor, and when he lifted his head he couldn’t spot a sky or a ceiling. Then when he waved his hand to command that darkness to do his bidding, to move aside so he could determine where he was, absolutely nothing happened. Not even a flicker of power escaped him in spite of all his efforts, and that was when he knew with certainty that wherever he was it couldn’t possibly be a nightmare. He’d always had the power to direct whatever happened within such dark dreams, even when they were his own, but this time he didn’t so he knew it couldn’t be one.

Peering into the impenetrable blackness that surrounded him, Pitch finally understood why the darkness wouldn’t listen to his commands. It was because it wasn’t darkness at all, but in fact emptiness. Pure, unadulterated nothingness.

And he didn’t like that one bit.

Uncertain as to what to do, Pitch took a cautious step forward. He startled when his ears picked up the sound of his own footstep, and ducked down for a moment to try and feel the ground with his hand. To his surprise, he could feel his feet but not what they were standing on. Even when he lifted his foot to feel directly under his soles he couldn’t find a thing.

_What the hell?_

Straightening up, he took another step, and then a third. Apart from the faint echo created by his shoes striking the nonexistent floor there was no other sound, and he still couldn’t see anything apart from his own body. It was extremely disconcerting. He had no idea where he was or which way he was facing or even which way he was _supposed_ to be facing.

Not wanting to just stand around like an idiot, though, he decided it was best to keep moving forward.

For a long time nothing happened, and Pitch started to get annoyed. It felt like he wasn’t even going anywhere, and he started to suspect that he wasn’t making any progress at all. What sort of place was this? Who in the name of darkness had the audacity to turn the fearsome Nightmare King into some sort of pathetic little pet that walked uselessly in place as if he were trapped on a wheel in a cage?! Such angry thoughts lashed about his head, filling him with frustration and rage, but as he was too stubborn to give up he just kept right on going.

Until he heard a voice.

“Don’t go that way.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned his head to stare wildly about, but he still couldn’t see anything. Frowning, Pitch made to keep walking but he’d barely put his foot down when the voice sounded again, clear as crystal in the empty blackness.

“Not that way.”

“Who’s there?” he called, peering into the nothingness. “Who are you?”

A childlike giggling filled his ears, a sound that aggravated him immensely. “Unless you’re going to help, leave me alone,” he snapped, in no mood for games.

“Don’t go that way,” the voice repeated when he took another step. Only this time, he could hear it coming from directly behind him.

Pitch spun around, and he frowned with confusion when he finally spotted something in the shapeless darkness. Not a creature, not a shadow. Just a tiny flickering flame. And it was a strange flame, too. Black as midnight with a grayish outline, and at its heart Pitch swore he saw a faint spot of dark red, almost like blood.

“What are you?” he asked. “Some sort of spirit?”

That annoying giggling resounded again, and now he knew for certain that it came from that flickering fire.

“What are you doing here?” He glanced around again. He was starting to suspect where he was. “Is this the void?”

“Not yet,” the fire told him sweetly. “But it will be if you keep going that way.”

His frown deepened. “What are you doing here, then?” he questioned.

“Stopping you from going there.”

“Why? Why does it matter to you if I go there or not?” He growled low. “I do not know you, and you do not know me. How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”

The voice answered his question with one of its own. “Why would I do that?”

“Because why else would you be down here?”

A soft sigh filled the empty space around him. He was _really_ annoyed now.

“What do you want from me?!” he shouted, swinging his hands aggressively to try and snatch that fire. It vanished before he could touch it, reappearing a short distance away. Rather than grow upset or angry, though, the voice emanating from that flame just giggled happily, almost as if it believed they were playing some sort of game.

“Why are you toying with me?” Pitch demanded. “Are you here just to torture me?!”

“I don’t want you to disappear.”

“Why not? Everyone else does!” Everyone except Lilly. “Do you even know who I am?” he asked harshly.

“Of course!” That damned giggling again.

But that answer only made him more suspicious. “How do you know me? I’ve never met you.”

“Not yet.”

The hell did that mean?

“Come this way,” the fire told him. “Follow me.” It vanished and reappeared some distance away, leading him in the opposite direction that he’d been walking.

Pitch didn’t move. “How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know what you are!”

“You’ll know soon,” the voice told him with a knowing laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?! Stop toying with me and just answer me!”

The fire flicked out and reappeared very close to his face. Pitch recoiled, not wanting to be so close to a flame—even one as tiny and innocent-looking as this—after what had happened to him.

Suddenly remembering, he ran searching hands over his body and stared down at himself. To his shock, his wounds were gone and there wasn’t even a twinge of pain. Was it because he wasn’t in the real world anymore?

Apparently noticing his actions in spite of the obvious lack of eyes, the fire laughed _again_. “Don’t worry,” it assured him cheerfully. “You don’t feel pain in this place.”

“And, what, going with you will somehow magically heal me?” Halting his self-examination, he glared up at the black fire. “I remember what happened to me, I know how it was I ended up here. Even if what you say is true and you want to take me back, there’s no way I’ll be able to stay there.” Golden eyes narrowed. “Is that what you want? To send me back with false hope only to have me suffer further agony? Why would you do that to me? I don’t even know you!”

“I wouldn’t do that,” the voice stated simply, as if he should’ve known that.

“Then what do you want from me? Why would you take me back there?”

“Because if you keep going that way then you’ll never learn the answer.”

“ _What_ answer?”

“Besides,” the voice continued, ignoring his question, “if you don’t go back, what do you think will happen to the one you’ve left behind?”

“What are you—?” He stilled. He hardly dared to breathe. “Lilly?” he whispered.

“Is that her name?” The flame flitted about a bit as it laughed gleefully. “I’m so happy! It’s nice to finally know her name!

“You know Lilly?” he asked, surprised.

“Of course! She’s very warm and strong and really, _really_ nice.”

“She’s never told me about you.”

That damned giggle again. “Of course not. That’s because _you’ll_ tell _her_.”

Now he was more confused than ever. His head was starting to hurt. Placing fingertips to his aching temples, he gritted out between clenched teeth, “So if you know Lilly and me but we don’t know _you_ , how did you even know I was here?”

“The naiads told me.”

Naiads? That could only mean…

“Are Lilly and I at the Moon Pool?”

“Yes. The naiads agreed to heal you. That’s why you have to go back.”

“Why would the naiads ever agree to help me? Their allegiance lies with Moon, and he’s my enemy.”

The flame didn’t answer for a moment. Then it told him, “The naiads said to tell you that Moon will explain, but only if you go back.”

He sighed heavily. He didn’t bother to ask how that strange fire-spirit-thing was communicating with the naiads right now, as he’d undoubtedly get some sort of convoluted half-answer. Instead, he considered the implications of what the voice had told him. If he believed it and went back to the physical world, then there was a very real chance that he was being tricked and that he’d returned only to suffer further torment. But if he _didn’t_ listen and it turned out the voice _wasn’t_ lying, then he’d be dragging Lilly down to the void when she’d already made a deal with Moon in order to save him.

Pitch drew a shuddering breath. He couldn’t do that. If there was _any_ chance that his wounds were being tended to and that he could spare Lilly an early journey to the void, then he’d take it. After all, if he turned out to be right about this fire’s intentions then the worse that would happen was more physical pain that he and he alone would bear. But if he made the other choice and was wrong…

“Fine,” he said rather reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“Yay!” the spirit-thing squealed rather loudly and promptly vanished. The little black flame reappeared some distance away, leading him in the direction that was supposedly away from the void and back towards the physical world. “This way!” the voice called giddily, and this time Pitch followed.

He walked for what felt like a really long time, though of course he couldn’t be sure how long it was since he couldn’t see or hear or sense anything around him apart from his own footsteps and that tiny flame. It would flick out as he approached only to reappear some distance away, slowly but surely guiding him through the stark emptiness that was supposedly the funnel into the void.

“Here,” the little fire said at last. Pitch stopped and looked, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Here?” he repeated doubtfully.

“Look again,” it instructed him, and he peered past it into the darkness beyond.

Maybe… Was it maybe just a _little_ lighter up ahead?

“Just follow the light,” the flame told him. “The rest will happen as it should.”

“What are you?” Pitch asked, though far more mildly than he had the last time.

“What do I look like?” The flame flickered out and reappeared right in front of him, but this time he didn’t pull away. He stared hard at that fire, studying the color and size of it, particularly that tiny glimpse of red right at its center.

“You’re not a fire spirit,” he said slowly.

“Nope,” the voice confirmed merrily.

“But apart from that…I’m not sure,” he admitted reluctantly. He hated having to confess to his own inadequacy, particularly in terms of intelligence. He liked to consider himself an extremely astute individual, so not being able to identify this spirit (especially when it clearly knew him and Lilly) was something he just couldn’t stand.

“What do I look like to you?” the spirit asked again, and Pitch frowned.

“Well…” He thought hard, examining the black fire closely. The way it moved, the way it was shaped…it vaguely reminded him of Lilly’s white fire.

“Are you not a spirit, but a spirit’s essence?” he offered, doubtful of his own answer.

“Hmmm,” the fire hummed, moving just a little closer. “What makes you think so?”

“I’ve seen hundreds of spirits, all of different kinds. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“And what makes you think I’m essence?”

“Because…” He hesitated for just a moment before answering. “Because you look a bit like my Lilly’s fire.” He shook his head. “But there’s no way that’s true. She is the sun’s daughter—that is why she has her flame. No other spirit’s essence presents itself in physical form like hers does, and the Sun Woman does not have any other children.”

“And there are no other options?”

“Of course not.”

The voice giggled. “Then how am I here?”

“I…I don’t know.”

The flame moved closer still. Now it was only inches from Pitch’s face, and to his surprise there was hardly any heat being emitted by that black fire. In fact, it was cooler than a burning match.

“You know how to tell for sure,” the voice told him softly, and his breath caught in his chest. He stiffened and shook his head vigorously.

“No. No I won’t do that.”

“Why not? You did it for Lilly.”

“How do you know about that?!”

“Are you frightened, Pitch Black?”

He bristled. “Of course not!”

“Then why won’t you do it? I have already led you here, why would I harm you now?”

“Why are you okay with this?” he countered. “Even if you know me, even if you know Lilly, there is absolutely _no_ reason why you would ever trust me to do something like that!”

“There _is_ a reason,” the voice responded gently.

“What reason?”

“Put out your hand, and you will understand.”

Pitch stood there for a long while, breathing heavily through his nose. Whoever was in control of this little black flame was irritating him beyond all reason! He knew for damn sure that neither he nor Lilly would _ever_ be familiar with an annoying little thing like this!

Still, he was overcome with curiosity. Many of the things this strange being had told him were confusing, and many more were extremely mysterious. If touching the flame would give him the answers he needed, then…

He sighed in defeat and reluctantly put out his hand. The little black flame settled comfortably in his palm, and the moment it touched his skin Pitch felt his heart leap inside his chest.

It didn’t just look like Lilly’s fire. It _felt_ like her fire. That sensation of hands caressing his skin, that gentle warmth…it even had a heartbeat, though to Pitch’s shock the pace it kept wasn’t nearly as steady as Lilly’s had been. This heartbeat was fluttery and swift, so swift that he wondered how it was at all possible for a heart to ever beat that fast.

“What are you?” he whispered, the words barely audible in the empty silence around them.

“You know,” the voice told him just as softly, and as it did so a tiny little tendril of fire reached out and caressed his finger.

No…no… It _couldn’t_ be. It was impossible, absolutely impossible.

“Would I exist if it was?” the voice breathed. 

Pitch wondered how it was it had heard him when he hadn’t spoken those thoughts aloud. Or maybe he had? He swallowed thickly, his own heart suddenly racing hard, threatening to turn his ribs into dust.

“Are—” he choked on the words, started again. “Are you…?”

“You know.”

The fire floated out of his hand, and Pitch almost reached out to take it again.

“Go on,” the little voice instructed. “Go and find Lilly.” As the black flame faded into the darkness, the voice giggled one last time as it told him, “Be sure to tell her about me.”

Pitch stood there for a long moment, struggling to breathe as his mind filled with confused, conflicted thoughts. Then he shook his head to clear those thoughts away, deciding it would be best to wait until he could discuss the matter with Lilly before trying to come to any sort of conclusion.

Right now he just needed to focus on getting back to her.

He started to walk again, and after a while he realized that his surroundings were, indeed, growing brighter. Slowly but steadily, step by step, Pitch left that darkness behind until there was nothing left of it but a tiny pinprick in the far distance. He gave it but a single backward glance before continuing onward, determined to get back to the physical world and to Lilly.

When the darkness was no longer visible and blinding white light was all he could see, Pitch suddenly felt heaviness all over his body. He looked down. Nothing seemed different, yet it was very hard for him to move now. He tried lifting his arm, but couldn’t. He tried to take another step forward, but couldn’t. He tried opening his mouth, but couldn’t.

_What the—?_

The only thing he could still move was his eyelids. So he squeezed them shut and stayed that way for a long moment, wondering if this is that what little black fire had meant when it had said that everything would happen as it should.

To his surprise, he suddenly felt wet. Very, very wet. With a low groan he forced his eyes to open again, and when he did he was shocked to find that he was no longer in that room of white light. Instead he was staring up at a familiar shock of red curls, which were tousled and tangled around a beautiful (if very pale and worn) face.

Lilly looked exhausted. There were lines around her mouth and dark shadows under her eyes, which were currently closed. Her head kept lolling to one side, and Pitch felt a swell of both concern and affection for his devoted love as he realized she must’ve dozed off after staying up with him for only darkness knew how long.

He reached up to touch her face. His arm felt like it was filled with lead, but with some effort he managed it. Water sluiced down his bare skin as he laid his damp palm to her cheek.

“Lilly,” he said, but with his voice so hoarse her name escaped his throat as a barely audible croak.

Still, it was enough to rouse her. With a bit of a start her head righted and her eyes snapped open. When she looked and saw he was conscious, relief washed over her features and a smile spread across her beautiful mouth.

“Pitch,” she whispered. She bent low to press her forehead to his, and he shut his eyes as he reveled in the texture of her skin, the familiarity of her scent, the closeness of her body, the beating of her heart.

All the things he loved about her, all the things he’d nearly lost forever.

He slipped his fingers up her face to tangle in her hair, holding her tight as she started to cry. Her body trembled as she shook with quiet sobs, tears washing over his face and dripping down into the waters of the Moon Pool.

“It’s all right, love,” he murmured, hating to see her cry over him. It had been amusing the last time, when they’d both been in his home and completely safe, but circumstances were so very different now that he just couldn’t find anything funny about it at all. Instead, it made his heart ache. “I’m all right.”

He kissed her gently, light touches of the lips to her eyes and cheeks and chin. She started to laugh a little, but kept crying, and he found he couldn’t do anything except hold onto her while she worked out all the pain and fear and helplessness of nearly losing him and the relief of him finally waking through those conflicting reactions.

Wait…fear?

Even in his severely weakened state, Pitch could never mistake such a thing. Yet it _couldn’t_ be…Lilly had never been scared of anything!

Reaching out with his power, he tentatively touched his Lilly and nearly gasped with shock and shame. There it was. Fear. Horrid, overwhelming fear. It was like a large black stain marring her once stoic and beautifully brave soul. His Lilly had experienced fear for the very first time in her long, long existence, and it was entirely his fault.

“You were scared for me,” he whispered. Guilt nearly overwhelmed him, making it hard to get those five simple words out of his constricted throat.

“Of _course_ I was, you idiot!” she gasped around another shuddering laugh. She sat up a little to look down into his eyes, and while her face was streaked with tears she wasn’t crying anymore. “Just because I’m not afraid of the void doesn’t mean I want you to be forced there! If we are to go I want it to be under _our_ terms, not anyone else’s. I want you to stay here with me for as long as possible!”

He swallowed thickly and used his hand (which was still tangled in her thick curls) to pull her back to him. With their foreheads touching once more he squeezed his eyes shut and fought the overwhelming surge of emotions that flooded through him. There was so _much_ he wanted to say to her, but he just couldn’t get any of it out. Why did words always seem to fail him when he needed them most?

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to get anything else out of his useless mouth.

“I love you too,” she murmured, sniffing a little and running her fingers through his wet hair. Then she sat up and rubbed her cheeks free of drying tears. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

It took some effort for Lilly to lift him out of the Moon Pool. His wounds may have been healed but he was still very weak, and they were both absolutely exhausted. Plus Lilly was incredibly stiff from sitting there holding him for what was likely several nights, so just getting up and out of the Pool herself was a bit of a task for her. They managed it somehow, and once they were both free of the silver water she slung one of his arms across her shoulders to help him stand. His legs shook uncontrollably, and he had to fight the nearly overwhelming urge to just lie down right there on the cold stone floor and fall asleep. He’d never been this weak before, not even when the four original Guardians had defeated him at the end of the Dark Ages, and he hated it. It was an absolutely horrible feeling, and having Lilly witness him in this state only made it all the more detestable and humiliating.

As she readjusted her grip on his waist, Pitch glanced down at her and was immediately seized by the strength and determination in her sharp green gaze. Love and appreciation for his beautiful Lilly nearly overwhelmed him, for he almost couldn’t believe that any spirit in existence would ever be able to stand such a pathetic and useless Nightmare King. Not only had she remained loyal to him over centuries of time, but he had perched on the on the very edge of the void and even that hadn’t been enough to shake her devotion. That she could see him at his absolute worst and still stand resolutely by his side made him want to fall to his knees and shower her with thanks.

But of course his silver tongue always failed whenever it came to Lilly. So instead of telling her all the things he wanted to tell her in that moment, he simply mumbled out, “You’re perfect.”

She snorted but squeezed him gently with the arm she had wrapped around his waist. “Save the flattery for later, okay?” she told him, the words playful in spite of her obvious exhaustion.

Luckily one of Moon’s specters appeared at that moment, and the little transparent thing silently teleported them to a small guest room. Normally Pitch would’ve hated having Moon or his servants help him with _anything_ , but right now he was just too damn tired to feel indignant. Besides, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was truly grateful that the specter had spared Lilly from having to carry him through the corridors.

With Lilly’s help he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, and though his eyes were glazed over and he could barely move his body, he somehow managed to avoid being completely useless while she stripped him of his wet clothes. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and helped him lie down. He pulled the blankets over himself and immediately closed his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his weary body.

Sleep had already started to wind its way about his consciousness when he heard and felt the bed creak as Lilly carefully climbed over him to lie between his body and the wall. As she slipped under the blankets he realized she was also naked, but there was no way he could find this position at all enticing. If anything, it reminded him of all the things he’d nearly lost, and when he reached out for her, rather than caress her stimulatingly Pitch instead pulled her close so he could bask in the comfort of having every inch of her body pressed right up against his own. He buried his face in her thick curls and breathed deep, drawing her perfect scent into his lungs while his arms wrapped tightly around her body, fingers splayed wide across her smooth back. Her own arms settled around his waist, and she shifted her legs so that one was nestled between his thighs and the other draped over his hip. She was so close he could feel her heart beating right against his chest, and he knew she could feel his own heartbeat against her warming skin.

That steady rhythm reminded him of one he’d felt not that long ago, one that was fluttery and swift and incredibly mystifying. He remembered that he was supposed to tell Lilly about it, but he was just so tired he decided he’d do it when they woke up. He simply didn’t have the energy to explain anything right now, especially since he could still scarcely believe it himself.

With that decision made, Pitch sighed contentedly and slipped into peaceful sleep.


	18. Sun and Moon

For Her Highness Saulė Starfire, the Sun Woman, the past few weeks had been absolutely horrendous. First that meddlesome Moon had contacted her with some preposterous notion that her daughter would be a good candidate for Guardianship. ( _As if my child would ever agree to become such a ridiculous thing.)_ Then she’d caught wind of those foul stories wicked tongues were spreading about Lilliana, stories that had both incensed and revolted her. Then she’d discovered (much to her disgust) that those sorry tales were not only true, but that the situation between her child and that damned spirit of fear and shadow was far worse than she had ever imagined.

 _The rite? Don’t make me laugh. How could that vile spirit even be worthy of my daughter’s attention let alone being_ bound _to her?!_

The mere thought of that wretched creature being with Lilliana in _any_ sense was enough to make the Sun Woman sick. That they were now bonded together for eternity was something she simply couldn’t bear to accept.

 _Of all_ _the spirits you could have chosen, my child, why_ _did it have to be him?!_

She had to have done it on purpose just to spite her mother, for Saulė couldn’t think of any other reason why her daughter would ever allow herself to be seduced by such a despicable being. He possessed no power, no position (except one he’d appointed to himself, of all the ridiculous things), no wealth, and certainly no allies to speak of. He wasn’t even _personable._ No matter how one looked at it, there was simply no benefit for Lilliana in binding herself to such a spirit, and yet the foolish child had done precisely that.

_After all I’ve done for you, after everything I taught you, this is what you do with your existence?_

The Sun Woman shook her head slowly, her eyes downcast. _What a waste._

A familiar presence infiltrated the throne room, and Saulė had to stifle a groan. It had been millennia since Moon last set foot in the Golden Palace, and the Sun Woman would have much preferred that the spirit’s prolonged absence had continued uninterrupted.

But as of late it seemed her luck had been tainted by something rotten, so of course he’d make this the time he decided to finally pay her a visit.

“I am in no mood to deal with you today, Moon.”

Thankfully the throne room was empty apart from the two of them, for the star spirit was far too drained by recent events to maintain her typically stoic demeanor. Her words were heavy with weariness, and she knew her unwelcome visitor would undoubtedly pick up on that.

“I simply wanted to inform you that Pitch Black has regained consciousness,” Moon informed her calmly. “He and Lilliana have escaped the void.”

As she was facing the fiery steps, Saulė could avoid looking at him. Trying to salvage some remnants of her shattered deportment, she replied as coolly as possible. “For now.”

He was light-footed for an ancient spirit, but even so his every step echoed in the empty hall. Listening to the gentle, rhythmic sound, the Sun Woman realized that the moon spirit was drawing far too close; no doubt he intended to stand right next to her for this conversation, as if they were equals.

She stifled a sigh. In all his centuries of existence, that Moon had never learned a thing about respect.

Turning sharply, she fixed the other spirit with a look that warned him not to come any closer. He understood the silent demand and stopped. With only a few feet separating them now, the Sun Woman could clearly see the immense weariness that had etched itself upon that goateed face. A twinge of sorrow touched her heart at the sight of it, but she was careful not to let it show.

“Is that all you wanted?” she asked instead, her tone still unusually strained in spite of her best efforts. “To tell me that I have failed?”

“I know you didn’t want to hurt her,” Moon said quietly. “You let your anger and fear of Pitch drive your reactions.”

“That wretched spirit deserves to be sent to the void a thousand times over and you know it,” Saulė retorted. Abhorrence and spite dripped from every word as the mere thought of that horrid creature filled her with incomparable fury.

Moon’s brows drew together, his expression becoming uncharacteristically stern. “It is not your place to make that decision, Saulė,” he admonished. She stiffened and her golden eyes flashed a warning, but this time it went unheeded. “Your domain is limited to those who work and walk in the warmth of your sunlight. To touch a spirit of the night without my consent is to tempt my wrath.”

As if to demonstrate his point, a surge of magic flooded the throne room. Saulė was not at all threatened by the display, but it was impressive nonetheless. Any other spirit would’ve found their strength smothered by the sheer amount of power contained within the Golden Palace, but not Moon. He was the only one formidable enough (and bold enough) to challenge her like this in her own realm.

And in all honesty, he was the only one she’d ever allow to do so without swift punishment.

“Why you do defend him so obstinately?” she countered. Her voice rose unintentionally as she told him fiercely, “You know what I say is true! That foul spirit should have been cast to the void back in the Dark Ages, yet you _still_ allow him to do as he pleases! And look at what your foolish lenience has wrought! My _child,_ Moon, my own flesh and blood has been irrevocably tainted by that—!”

“Is it taint, Saulė?” Moon interrupted. The magic faded away as he crossed his arms, facing the Sun Woman sternly. “Or are you simply allowing personal feelings to cloud your judgment? Have you been basing your decisions as of late upon what Pitch has done, or upon your unhappiness with the fact that Lilliana has chosen someone without your knowledge or consent?”

“Personal sentiment has nothing to do with this.”

“‘Nothing’, you say?’”

“Yes, nothing! No matter how you consider it that wicked existence is undeserving of _anything_ , least of all my daughter’s hand!”

“And yet your daughter chose him, with the celestial spirits’ blessing,” he reminded her. “Even you cannot refute that. You know very well what it means for two spirits to be bound by the rite, but even after learning the truth of the matter you _still_ refused to retract your command.” Moon shook his head slowly. “You cannot say that personal feelings did not have any sway over such a rash decision. Only a fool would believe such a thing.”

The Sun Woman’s lip curled into a sneer and she turned her back to him once more. She knew that if Moon were to look into her eyes right now he’d spot the fragments of guilt that lingered there, and this was not the time to appear weak.

“It is the least he deserves!” she said firmly, yet the astute moon spirit still somehow sensed the lingering regret.

“I know you didn’t want to hurt her,” he said, repeating his earlier words. “And it is because of that knowledge that I haven’t sought reparations for what you did.”

She snorted. “Reparations. As if I would ever be forced to do such a thing. If what I did was truly wrong, then the celestial spirits would have stopped me.”

“Do you honestly think that, Saulė?” There was incredulity in Moon’s voice, as if he couldn’t believe his own ears in spite of the fact that he was standing right there and had heard every syllable she’d spoken. “You know the celestial spirits do not work that way. They guide us and oversee us, but they do not command us, and intervene only when absolutely necessary. If they made no move to stop you, it is because they knew we would be able to deal with the situation appropriately on our own, one way or another. Your actions may have been reprehensible, but at least they were not permanently damaging. We can still come away from this, Saulė, and be better off for it, but _only_ if you set aside your petty hatreds and listen to me.”

A heavy silence fell upon the room. After a while, Saulė gave in with an angry huff. “Fine.” She strode up the steps and settled into her throne, staring down at Moon with a look of contempt etched plainly upon her features. “I’m listening.”

He sighed heavily, and she could tell both from that sound and the look on his face that the moon spirit knew she was being purposefully difficult. It made her feel rather petty to be acting so childishly, but she just wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything right now. She didn’t really want to listen to him, but she didn’t want to argue, either, so she had little choice but to bear with the lesser of two irritations and let him have his say.

 _Let him speak his mind, get it out of his system, and be done with this once and for all,_ she decided with an internal sigh of resignation.

Moon began to slowly approach the star spirit. He spoke as he walked, but his words were just as unhurried as his movements, almost as if he were trying to lull the Sun Woman into some sort of acquiescent state. She found it incredibly aggravating.

“For centuries you have maintained that I should have destroyed Pitch, and I admit that there was a time when I started to think that maybe you were right. But I stayed my hand because I couldn’t shake the conviction that he wasn’t truly evil, that he was just a spirit who had hopelessly lost his way in his desperate search for happiness and acceptance. I truly believed that he could become a spirit worthy of existence once more, if only something would happen to make him desire such a fate for himself as words alone were not enough.”

He reached the bottom of the fiery steps and stopped. Making no move to climb them, he instead stared up into her eyes as he continued. “Your daughter happened to him, Saulė. You cannot possibly reflect on the past three and a half centuries and tell me that Pitch has not been deeply affected by her. And as bitter and angry and hurt as you may feel right now, you still cannot deny that what he did to protect Lilliana from your servants was true selflessness. He was nearly _destroyed_ , Saulė. Do you honestly believe Pitch Black would go so far for someone he considered to be nothing more than a conquest?”

Saulė’s jaw tightened and she said nothing. Moon continued without pause, almost as if he’d asked a rhetorical question and hadn’t expected her to answer him.

“If he really saw her as nothing more than a toy, as something to pass the time or as some sort of sick, twisted means to spite you, do you honestly believe Lilliana would have stood for it? You know how smart she is, Saulė, how prideful she is. She would _never_ permit a spirit to use her, and certainly not in such a personal way. Their relationship may not be one that you approve of, and as her mother it is well within your right to disapprove, but I beg you to leave them be. You do not know what it was you almost did that day.”

“I know perfectly well what I—”

“No you don’t,” Moon interrupted, and the Sun Woman was actually stunned by the intensity of his tone and the fierceness in his eyes as he informed her, “You don’t know the _half_ of what you did! Because of your foolish actions, you almost cast _three_ spirits into the void!”

Saulė Starfire, the mighty Sun Woman, felt as if she had been slapped. Her body stilled, her mind struck numb by the words that had just left Moon’s mouth.

_Three…?_

_Three?!_

“You lie,” she said, but instead of being powerful and condemning, the words that left her mouth were weak and hoarse. She didn’t believe it. She _couldn’t_ believe it. It was such a rare thing for spirits to have children that it was almost unheard of. And Lilliana…Lilliana would _never_ allow herself to bear that creature’s child. Never!

But Moon didn’t even blink at the half-hearted accusation. “Bunnymund came to me last night. He informed me that he had sensed what he believed to be a child’s presence, but he couldn’t be certain as he was unfamiliar with the essence of an unborn spirit. So I spoke with the naiads, and they confirmed his suspicions to be true.” 

No…no…

Saulė gripped the arms of her throne so tightly that her fingers threatened to crush the golden rests. _How could she do this?_ she thought wildly. _How could she possibly do this to me?_

“Thinking of yourself again?” Moon asked quietly, interrupting her horrified thoughts. She looked up to realize that he was shaking his head again, a mixture of indignation and sadness evident in the gesture. “That is why you could not form a bond with Lilliana,” he told her. “Parenthood takes a great deal of selflessness, and after millennia of putting yourself first I suppose it is only natural that you would have an exceptionally hard time considering others’ needs before your own.”

Sun Woman lifted her chin, disbelief instantly evaporating from her face as it was replaced by anger. “Do not speak of me of such things, Moon! You know better than anyone that the selfish one here is _you_!”

The moon spirit did not speak, and though he tried to hide it those words made him wince. Saulė seized the opportunity and pressed the point further, completely uncaring for the fact that she knew her words would hurt him.

_What does it matter if they hurt? They are naught but the truth!_

“Do not try to pretend that your care for my daughter is selfless. I know it is guilt alone that drives you to protect her, and now you seek to further alleviate your culpability by accusing _me_ of being in the wrong in this matter!”

Rather than wound him into silence as she’d intended, the harsh accusations instead gave Moon back his voice. “You know why I could not help you!” he said, the words laced with a toxic combination of anger and grief. “I _wanted_ to help you, Saulė, but I was in no position to do so! Your compatriots among the stars would have never recognized a marriage without consummation, and you know that I am unable to do such a thing!”

Sun Woman feigned uncaring for Moon’s predicament through a cruel snort. “A silly thing to agree to,” she said carelessly, to which he responded with a glare.

“The naiads are ancient spirits and far from stupid. They would have never accepted my help in good faith after being toyed with and taken advantage of so many times in the past. They knew a spirit of my standing would _never_ agree to such a stipulation if my intentions were at all malicious, and demanding that they choose another form of proof would have only sealed their distrust. I was young, Saulė, and at the time I believed it was a simple enough thing to sacrifice in exchange for helping the naiads. Their existence is invaluable, not just to us spirits but to the very balance that keeps us all alive.” He shook his head. “I cannot break that agreement, Saulė. Not even for you. You have no idea what would happen if I do.”

No, but she could guess, and as such she understood why it was that he had refused to help. But such understanding did nothing to ease the pain that memory always brought her. The _one_ time she had reached out to him for aid—swallowing her pride not just as a spirit, but as a woman—and he had turned her away. That had hurt her. It had hurt her immensely.

_You were my one true ally, yet the only time I have ever asked anything of you, you told me no._

“I know you care for Lilliana more than you let others believe,” Moon said softly, his tone oddly gentle compared to how harsh it had been mere moments ago. “I also know that what you did back then was more than just a means of escaping the plans your distant kin had devised for you. After all, you could have easily taken a spirit other than me as your false spouse. I’m sure any number of your courtiers would have jumped on the opportunity.”

Sun Woman’s stony demeanor fell just long enough for her to curl her lip in disgust. “As if I could stand to even _pretend_ with one such as them,” she grumbled, which for some reason made Moon smile a little.

 _Don’t you dare take that as anything other than precisely what I said,_ she thought harshly. _It is not as if you are special! Simply the least bothersome of the lot!_

Thankfully, Moon made no comment on what she’d said and instead continued with his previous line of thought. “You were lonely, Saulė, and I know you were desperate for a child. It is a terrible thing that your fellow star spirits sought to take advantage of that desire.” He shook his head again. “They may have borne no ill-will, but they still should have listened to you when you told them no. And yet of all the means you could have undertaken to avoid such a marriage, you chose the one that was arguably the most difficult and disadvantageous for you.”

He didn’t elaborate on that point because he didn’t have to. It wasn’t exactly a secret how she’d arranged for her daughter to be born; practically every spirit in existence knew of it thanks to ever-waggling tongues.

Moon was right in that she’d wanted a child, but what he probably didn’t know was that her desire for such a thing was the very reason she’d wound up in such a humiliating predicament in the first place. While she’d been careful to keep her wish a secret for a long, long time, in the end she’d broken down and confessed to a spirit whom Saulė had considered a close friend and trusted confidante. Much to her shock and fury that wretched woman became the catalyst for the marriage arrangements, for she had rushed to share the news with just about every spirit in existence, prompting the older star spirits to take action.

“‘If she is truly that lonely,’” those esteemed spirits had said of the Sun Woman, “‘then she shall have someone to occupy her time and her bed. If a child is born from the union, then she shall have her fill of happiness and preoccupation.”

The Sun Woman had never felt so disgusted and horrified as she had when she’d learned of those words, but no matter what she said no one would listen to her. Saulė may be regarded as a respected, ancient spirit in her own little pocket of the universe, but amongst her kin scattered throughout the stars she was actually quite young, hardly more than a child. As such, her every plea had gone unheeded and the marriage preparations had commenced.

Not one to be ignored, the Sun Woman became determined to put a stop to it one way or another. That was when she’d gone to Moon, though of course he’d refused her. Humiliated and dispirited, she’d returned to the Golden Palace to consider her options. Moon was right in that she could’ve just picked another to play the part, but she’d absolutely refused to do such a thing. As desperately as she’d wanted out of the marriage, she wasn’t about to settle for just any spirit. Tying herself to one undesirable idiot just to escape another was simply out of the question.

Then an idea had struck her, one which not only dealt with the arranged marriage issue but also satisfied her continued desire to have a child.

The nymphs.

Although extinct now, the forest nymphs had once been quite populous, familial clusters dotting the Earth’s woodlands for many centuries before the arrival of man. Once humans had appeared, however, circumstances had drastically changed for the delicate spirits. Just like Moon’s naiads, the nymphs had suffered the unfortunate circumstance of having their essence bound to a single stationary thing—in their case, the tree from which they were born. If the tree fell to damage or disease or old age, then the nymph dwelling within it also perished. As such, the spirits were quite sensitive to even the slightest changes in the world around them, but nothing had devastated them more than the advent of humankind. The speed and efficiency with which they cut and burned and dug and mined and hunted alarmed the nymphs, for their numbers were rapidly diminished in a remarkably short period of time. As such, when Saulė arrived on Earth (the one and only time she’d ever made the descent), rather than facing a clan of shy yet demanding spirits, she’d instead been met with desperate pleas. The nymphs had begged the Sun Woman to destroy the humans, but of course she’d been unable to do so. For better or for worse her duty was to watch over them, just as Moon’s was, so she was unable to take direct action against them. Not even to spare the lives of her fellow spirits.

Utterly dismayed by the news but surprisingly understanding of her circumstances, the nymphs had listened to Saulė’s unconventional request. Although very few knew of it, the forest nymphs had possessed the unique capacity to plant life inside another spirit’s womb, albeit at a very high cost to the nymphs themselves. It required the combined essence of dozens of spirits for the woodland protectors to pull off such a fantastic feat…meaning that those participating in the ritual had to literally sacrifice themselves for the sake of creating that one new life. Of course they were loath to rely on such devastating magic (for it was intended to be used only under the direst of circumstances), but Saulė had arrived prepared to offer them anything within her power to give. She would have a child, one way or another, no matter the cost.

 _And once I carry it inside of me, no star spirit will dare take me as a spouse,_ she’d thought at the time. _They’d never sink so low as to bear accusations of being married to a harlot._

After her request was made, the nymphs had retreated back into their trees to converse in private. For two long days Saulė waited, growing more desperate and impatient by the minute. But in the end the female spirits had returned. They agreed to complete the ritual and give the Sun Woman what she wanted…but on the condition that the child she bore became a flora spirit instead of a fire spirit. Already teetering on the verge of extinction, the nymphs were under no illusions that their end was drawing near, and they worried over the fate of their forests once they were no longer around to care for them. But if a single powerful spirit was available to tend to the green of the Earth after they were gone, then they could go to the void free of that worry.

Saulė’s fingers tightened at the memory, the only outward indication she gave that the past bothered her. She had agreed to the nymphs’ request, but only because she had been left with no other choice. She had been desperate for a child, yes, and even more desperate to escape the marriage arranged by her distant kin without her consent, but ensuring that her daughter wasn’t born a fire spirit had come at a devastating cost. For as great as her power and position were, her bloodline was naturally quite dominant. So in order to ensure that the nymphs’ donated essence was not smothered by it, she had to literally bind her own power, keeping it out of her body and out of her womb for nine long months. To a spirit as old as she, nine months usually passed as if they were nothing, but that particular period had been absolute torture for the Saulė Starfire. Performing her duties properly while simultaneously keeping her essence dammed had been an incredibly taxing feat, so much so that she’d inevitably lost a great deal of power into the nothingness that was space and time. Most Earth-bound spirits were too young to know any different, but even after millennia of recovery the Sun Woman’s realm was still less than half the size it used to be.

Evidence of the great sacrifice she’d made for the sake of having a child.

That was one aspect of her ordeal that Saulė had made absolutely certain never reached her daughter’s ears. It was humiliating enough that spirits whispered about Lilliana behind her back, calling her a bastard child and a harlot’s daughter despite knowing fully well how she’d come to be born, but for her to also learn of the fact that her mother was mocked as a fool for sacrificing so much of herself over a baby would’ve been too much.

_She’s always been so sensitive._

The Sun Woman blinked. Then she glared down at Moon, who was watching her in silence with a warm smile on his face.

“What?” she asked tersely.

“You were thinking about Lilliana, weren’t you?”

She didn’t dare ask how he knew that. “So what if I was?”

“Even if you cannot show her true affection, you are just as protective of Lilliana as any mother is for her child. I know there was at least a part of you that sought to help her by forcing her to return to your side, but when she refused to come you should have accepted her choice, _especially_ once you learned of her participation in the rite. As I said before, you allowed your anger and disappointment and wounded pride to overcome common sense, and we simply cannot afford to let that happen again. They are too important to lose, Saulė. Not just because of the bond, not just because I want Lilliana to be a Guardian, but because of what the two of them represent. Their relationship is proof that any obstacle can be overcome, that any differences can be put aside in favor of what’s important, that what truly matters isn’t what a spirit has said or done in the past but what they intend to do with themselves in the future.”

Moon’s face was earnest and his tone became almost pleading. “If nothing else stems from this debacle, at the very least I want the incessant rivalry between Pitch, yourself and my Guardians to end. Far from anything good stemming from this longstanding dispute, things only continue to fester and grow worse over time. The events of the other day are proof enough of that. My Guardians and I are willing to put the past behind us in favor of an advantageous future, but such a thing will only work if you cooperate in this as well. _Please_ put your vendetta to rest, Saulė. If for no other reason, do it for your daughter and the child she now carries inside her.”

The Sun Woman stiffened and turned her head away. “A child what _that_ creature’s blood,” she said with as much derision as she could muster. Within the privacy of her own mind, she thought bitterly, _I will_ never _acknowledge it!_

“Will you really do that to her, Saulė? Will you put Lilliana through the same cruel trials you had to endure when your kin learned of your own pregnancy?”

She blinked and looked back at Moon, shocked by the implication of his words.

“You didn’t even recognize it as such, did you?” the moon spirit said quietly. “Harsh words, petty abuses, shaming and shunning, all because of a child that was born from ‘distasteful’ circumstances?” He looked so sad. _Why is he so sad?_ “It is the same, Saulė. You are being exactly like them by doing this to Lilliana.”

“It is not the same,” Saulė whispered.

“Why not?” he asked just as softly.

“My child has no father, so their words were as ridiculous as they were baseless. _That_ child has one, and he is a truly wretched being.”

“Yet Lilliana chose him. And whether you like it or not, the child Pitch fathered—who shares in _your_ bloodline as well as his—is completely innocent in this.”

Saulė said nothing, and after a while Moon heaved a sigh.

“I am not asking you to accept it, Saulė; as I said before, it is well within your right as Lilliana’s mother not to. All I want is for you to tolerate it, and to tolerate them, for everyone’s sake. Please.”

Another long silence fell upon the room. This time Moon didn’t appear willing to break it, as he was waiting for the Sun Woman to give him an answer. In time, she sat back in her throne with a weary sigh.

“Fine, fine,” she acquiesced on a groan. “I’ll _try_ to be tolerant, but only because I’m sick of hearing your voice right now.”

Moon smiled broadly, and for the first time since he arrived in the Golden Palace he visibly relaxed.

“Thank you, Saulė,” he began, but she interrupted him.

“But if that horrid creature so much as looks at me or mine, I reserve every right to dispense punishment as I see fit!”

The smile faded, but only a little, as Moon regarded her. “You always have say over the spirits of daylight, Saulė, and of course if anything happens to them you can seek retribution from those responsible. Just keep it within reason from now on, and I will have no cause to interfere.” Then his face pinched a little. “And keep my Guardians out of it. You almost destroyed the lot of them with your overwhelming power, especially young Jack.”

Sun Woman snorted. “Why you made a brat like that a Guardian, I will never understand.”

“It is because you don’t understand that you are forbidden from interfering with their affairs.” That infuriatingly positive smile was back again. “Of course, that will include Lilliana once she becomes a Guardian.”

“ _If_ she becomes one,” Saulė countered. “You and yours have had several opportunities to convince her, yet she still denies you.” She smirked. “My child is no fool to fall for your pretty words, unlike the others.”

“Yet she’s fool enough to fall for Pitch Black’s?” Moon asked with a knowing look, and the Sun Woman grit her teeth as she realized she’d walked right into that one.

“Just don’t forget our agreement, Moon,” Saulė said gruffly, trying to ignore that annoying gleam in the moon spirit’s eyes, as if he were trying hard not to laugh at her. “If she has not agreed by summer’s solstice then you are not to harass her about it anymore!” She shook her head suddenly and added in a mutter, “How you ever convinced me of such a thing in the first place, I do not know.”

“Because I promised to stay away from you and your daughter from now until the end of time if I failed to sway her, remember?” Moon actually did chuckle this time, much to the Sun Woman’s aggravation. “And if I succeeded, you agreed to accept that decision without argument or interference.”

She scowled. “You knew about those two before making that arrangement, didn’t you?” She thrust an accusing finger down at Moon. “You swindled me, picking her as a candidate knowing I would be unable to touch that wretch once my daughter became your pet!”

He met her gaze without flinching. “I did not tell my Guardians, either.” He was purposefully ignoring the “pet” comment. “They found out only through unfortunate circumstance. It wasn’t your place to know about their relationship any more than it was theirs _or_ mine. I found out purely on accident, and while that knowledge _did_ serve to convince me of Lilliana’s worthiness of Guardianship, believe me when I say that I had no such illusions of swindling you. To do that I would’ve had to know you’d react as you did, and of course I would have never dreamed you’d do such a horrendous thing as to sacrifice your own child just to get revenge on Pitch. I respect you more than that, Saulė, and I was truly disappointed when I learned of what you intended to do.”

“I have no regrets,” Sun Woman asserted, but there was a slight hitch to her voice that she knew Moon didn’t fail to catch. He sighed resignedly, shaking his head slightly.

“Still stubborn. Just like Lilliana.” He looked up again, and his silver eyes were warm. “You two are far more alike than either of you like to think.”

Saulė glared at him, but the moon spirit was already walking away, preparing to take his leave and return to his own realm.

“You know,” Moon said suddenly, as if struck by an unexpected thought. Pausing partway across the throne room, he informed the Sun Woman, “I think I ought to tell you: your grandchild was the one who descended into the crossing to bring Pitch back after the naiads healed his body.”

He looked over his shoulder to grin at the Sun Woman, who was regarding him with open surprise. Then she, too, smiled, but it was hardly more than the slightest upturn of one corner of her mouth.

“I wondered why Faisal insisted on hanging on for so long,” she commented dryly.

“Indeed. It seems he was simply waiting for a suitable replacement.” Moon’s irritating smile widened as he added, “That should be telling, should it not: the spirit of judgment, caretaker of the crossing between reality and the void, choosing Pitch Black’s child to succeed him?”

Saulė said nothing, but she didn’t have to. Knowing his point had been made, Moon returned to his realm, leaving the Sun Woman alone with her conflicted thoughts.


	19. Acceptance

He didn’t know how long he slept. It could’ve been days or even weeks, but it really didn’t matter. Time had never meant much to him anyway, except in terms of night versus day. His magic reserves were still incredibly low (and would remain so until he absorbed a significant amount of fear), but he already felt a thousand times better.

Not that he was ready to get up just yet.

With a quiet sigh, Pitch pulled Lilly closer. At some point during their long sleep they’d shifted positions, and now she lay facing the wall with his body curled protectively around hers. Their legs were still tangled together and his arm was draped over her waist, hugging her against him. It was so warm and comforting holding her like this that he didn’t want to move, but even as he thought that his stomach rumbled with hunger, reminding him that he had to get up eventually.

 _When was the last time I ate?_ He thought hard about it, but couldn’t remember. _Too long ago if that’s the case_.

Rather reluctantly he opened his eyes and smiled warmly when all he could see was red. Her hair was in his face, as usual. He nuzzled against the tangled strands, breathing in her scent, relishing in her closeness. The arm that held her moved ever so slightly in time with her quiet, even breaths, signaling that she was still fast asleep. He made no move to wake her; after all he’d put her through in the past few days, she certainly needed her rest. Especially since…

Pitch’s smile turned into a frown as he remembered. He still wasn’t completely sure if he believed it or not. There was no denying that what he’d experienced down in the crossing to the void had been real, but how could such a thing be possible? How could _he_ —Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, enemy of children everywhere—ever be granted such a rare and remarkable gift?

 _Someone somewhere must be mocking me,_ he thought, squeezing Lilly tighter. _Children hate and fear me, they do not love me. They do not even believe in me. If this is really happening, then surely it is just to punish me by making me endure the fear and disgust of a child that shares my own blood._

How would Lilly take such news? The thought made him feel a little sick. She’d never liked children (she’d professed as much on numerous occasions), and now if he was to believe what that spirit down in the crossing had told him then he was forcing her to bear one. Surely she’d be upset… Surely she’d be angry or bitter over such a thing… She might not blame him, for she’d never blamed him for anything, but surely she’d resent him for putting her through such a painful and humiliating ordeal as bearing a child that they both knew could never love them.

_How could any child love parents like us?_

He moved his hand, slowly shifting it until it rested lightly against her belly. He tried to picture a child sleeping there, but couldn’t. He had no experience with children at all except to scare them. Even his time as a human (which had occurred so very long ago that he could scarcely remember it) had been spent far removed from children, for he’d found them dull-minded and incessantly aggravating, much as he did now. What was he ever going to do with one of his own, if it really existed? Parents were supposed to play with their offspring, right? Play with them and cuddle them and tell them sweet stories and teach them how to share and other such nonsense. He simply couldn’t imagine himself doing any of those things. The Guardians were the ones who knew how to do such things, not him. They were the ones with soft minds and even softer hearts who welcomed sticky-fingered youths into their arms with broad smiles and sweet words and just the right gestures. They loved kids, and kids loved them, and the last thing Pitch wanted was for his own flesh and blood to look into his eyes and tell him that they wished one of those idiots was their father instead of him. Just thinking of something like that possibly happening in the future filled him with such turbulent emotions that he didn’t know if he wanted to scream or throw up or punch the Guardians right in their stupid faces.

He _really_ needed to talk to Lilly. She always knew how to calm him whenever he was agitated or frustrated or anxious; she would be able to make sense of all this.

But she was asleep right now. He’d just have to wait.

Rising carefully so as not to wake her, Pitch sat up in bed. Almost instantly he caught the scent of something hot and delicious, and as he looked around for the source, he spotted a covered tray situated on a nearby table. He didn’t know if it was one of Moon’s specters or one of the Guardians who had dropped it off, but he was annoyed at whoever it was for just letting themselves in while he and Lilly were sleeping.

He couldn’t stay angry for long, though, as his stomach was growling loudly. So he got up to go inspect the offerings.

Lifting the lid off the tray caused warm steam to billow into his face, carrying that delicious scent straight to his nose and increasing his hunger tenfold. Two large bowls of some type of stew were revealed along with a loaf of freshly baked bread, and even his lingering suspicions about Moon did nothing to stop him from lifting one of the vessels to his lips and immediately downing the contents in six large gulps. He scalded his tongue and barely tasted any of it, but it was enormously satisfying nonetheless. Tearing off a hefty chunk of bread, leaving the larger half for Lilly, he used the soft white inside of the loaf to circle the bowl, effectively scooping up any lingering broth and tidbits. Setting the clean bowl back on the table, he chewed on the bread as he eyed a basket near his foot curiously. He stooped down and pulled back the silver linen obscuring the contents, and was mildly surprised to find their clothes inside—clean and mended and folded neatly into a little stack with Lilly’s smaller garments on top, the white and green of her shirts standing out starkly against his black robes.

 _Really, what is that Moon up to,_ he wondered, stuffing the last bit of bread into his mouth and lifting the clothes from the basket. _Food and_ _laundry after the Moon Pool and a private room? Lilly must’ve promised him something astronomical to make him so accommodating._

The thought of his Lilly owing _anyone_ favors was extraordinarily aggravating, but the fact that it was Moon only made it ten times worse. Pitch was an extremely selfish person who hated sharing anything of his with anybody. With Lilly his possessiveness reached whole new heights, and the very idea of her being beholden to Moon, of all spirits, made him furious and bitterly guilty at the same time.

_It’s my fault…again._

The sun’s rays shouldn’t have been an excuse. He should’ve been fast enough to dodge that attack, or at least smart enough to see it coming long before it happened. But he’d been too focused on Lilly, his every thought focused on preventing those fire spirits from taking her away. He hadn’t even considered that they might’ve come prepared to destroy him, for he’d assumed that the Sun Woman knew about the rite and that was why she’d sent her servants after Lilly instead of straight for him. He’d never, _ever_ anticipated that the star spirit would purposefully make an attempt on his existence with her daughter standing right there.

 _Either she didn’t know about the rite as I assumed she did, or…_ He took a shuddering breath. … _or she just didn’t care._

He’d worried about this, about other spirits reacting negatively towards Lilly once they knew who she was bound to. But for the Sun Woman to damn the consequences to her own daughter just to punish Pitch was a far harsher reaction than even _he_ had anticipated.

 _There’s really no chance of anyone accepting us, is there?_ he thought dejectedly, moving across the room with their clothes and setting Lilly’s on the foot of the bed. As he dressed, he wondered: _How can a child ever love us if Lilly’s own mother can’t even stand to look at her now that she’s been with me? Even if we do our damnedest to make that child happy, it’ll resent us for being what we are because others will hate and fear it because of us. It’ll never be judged by who it is, but by who and what its parents are._

Just as Pitch was putting on his shoes, he felt a stirring behind him and straightened up. From his position sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned to find Lilly rubbing her eyes sleepily, a wide yawn temporarily distorting her features.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, worried that he might have.

“You were slurping,” she mumbled, and it took him a moment to realize she meant the stew.

“Sorry,” he muttered, a little embarrassed.

“’S okay, I understand,” she slurred around another yawn. Sitting up and pushing curls out of her face, she told him, “I’m starving.”

Pitch immediately went to retrieve the tray, bringing the whole thing over to her and setting it carefully on her lap before getting comfortable on the bed beside her. Leaning back against the headboard, he watched her hungrily stuff the stew into her mouth with a spoon. She was far less refined with her eating than normal, and he stifled a laugh as he realized he must’ve looked even more ridiculous gulping down his own portion as he had.

“Taste all right?” he asked with genuine interest, having taken note of the slight squint she’d developed even as she continued to scoop hot food out of the rapidly emptying bowl.

“That Moon-man doesn’t know a thing about spice,” she grumbled.

He couldn’t really agree or disagree since he hadn’t actually tasted the food before swallowing it, but he trusted Lilly’s judgment. Considering the majority of foods were either plants themselves or were made from plant-based ingredients, and plants were Lilly’s forte, it would be an understatement to say that she was extremely picky when it came to cuisine. That was one of the things he’d had to come to terms with during the course of their relationship, as he was far less concerned with what went into his mouth than she was. Not that she was one to fall for “fancy” fare like gourmet meals and such, as she considered such things to be enormous wastes of time, but even so taste was of the utmost importance to her and she had a tendency to pick apart dishes that she hadn’t made herself. It was a true mark of just how famished she was that she was eating the stew even though she clearly didn’t like it.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes as Lilly finished the stew and pulled apart the bread, eyeing it suspiciously. She pushed a piece into her mouth, and as she slowly chewed it Pitch could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she identified the ingredients and what had been done to them. She pulled a face and actually reached in with two fingers to pluck the half-chewed piece out again.

In all their years together, he’d never seen her do such a thing. He laughed heartily.

“That bad, huh?” he asked teasingly, wrapping an arm around her bare shoulders as she threw the bread onto the tray and pushed the whole thing away from her in disgust.

“Tastes like sand,” she griped, leaning against his shoulder. She made no move for her clothes, not that he minded. “Honestly, if you’re going to waste ingredients like that you might just as well throw them in the garbage!”

“Hmmm,” he said noncommittally. Unlike the stew, he’d consumed the bread slowly enough to actually taste it and personally didn’t think anything was wrong with it. But he knew better than to argue when Lilly’s palate was concerned; that was a lesson he’d learned a _long_ time ago.

Putting his other arm around her, Pitch held her tight for a long moment. She breathed a quiet sigh and relaxed against him, her indignation over the food vanishing immediately as she tilted her head so that her breath tickled the skin of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” she mumbled after a time, lifted her face just enough to brush her lips against jaw.

“Me too,” he replied, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had to tell her. If he didn’t tell her now, he felt like he’d lose the chance to discuss this with a reasonable state of mind. There was a storm gathering inside his head, and he needed answers in order to calm it before it got any worse.

“Lilly,” he said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Sensing his reservation in addition to the obvious seriousness of the subject he wished to discuss, Lilly sat up a little so she could look into his eyes, though she didn’t move away. He was grateful for that, because if he didn’t maintain contact with her like this then he probably wouldn’t find the strength to get through this.

“While I was unconscious,” he began slowly, “I ended up in the crossing between this place and the void.”

She was quiet for a moment, absorbing that information. “What was it like?” she asked finally.

“Empty,” he replied. “There’s literally nothing there. No shadow, no light…just endless nothingness.”

She didn’t ask or comment about it further, and Pitch was glad she didn’t. She understood completely just from the little he’d told her, sparing him from having to go into detail regarding his ordeal.

“While I was down there,” he went on, his voice still very quiet, “I was found by a spirit. It was the one who led me home again.”

She frowned, her brows drawing together slightly. “It wasn’t a man?”

“Should it have been?” he questioned, honestly having no idea.

“The caretaker of the crossing is the spirit of judgment, a man by the name of Faisal. My mother spoke of him on occasion, although I never saw or met him myself. But you said ‘it’ to describe this spirit, meaning it could not have been him.”

“You’re right,” he said, not quite sure how to take this news. What did it mean if this strange spirit, supposedly his child, had descended into the crossing instead of leaving him for that Faisal? Then he shook his head slightly. That wasn’t important right now.

“What did this spirit look like?” Lilly asked before he could speak again.

“That’s just it. I don’t think it was an actual spirit. It looked just like your fire, except it was smaller and black, and just as I was about to leave the crossing, it…it let me touch it and…”

Lilly stiffened. “You _touched_ another’s essence?!” she hissed, and he wasn’t entirely sure if she was more angered or shocked by the revelation.

“I didn’t want to!” he assured her, squeezing her shoulders with his arms to make sure she didn’t pull away from him. She made no attempt to, but she still looked quite irritated. “Truly, I didn’t, but it insisted. And when I touched it…”

He drew a shuddering breath. “Lilly, I think…I think it might’ve been…”

Some of the anger faded from her face as she cocked her head ever so slightly to one side, studying him. That he was having such a hard time describing this to her let her know that it was something extremely serious.

“Lilly,” he repeated after a calming breath. _Now or never,_ he thought resignedly. “I think it was the essence of our child.”

She sat frozen, staring at him, and not knowing what else to do or say Pitch stared mutely back. After a long and uncomfortably heavy silence, Lilly finally moved. She blinked first. Then she drew a shuddering breath that she let out in a rush. At last she spoke, but the answer she gave him certainly wasn’t the one he’d been anticipating.

“Now it makes sense,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

“What makes sense?” he asked, confused by her reaction. He’d expected denials at least, maybe even furious denials. Not this…whatever this was…

“The naiads,” she explained, running a hand through her curls and looking a bit sheepish for some reason. “When I first entered the Pool one of them told me to ‘see to my own health’. I didn’t pay them any mind because I was distracted and thought they were just being coy with me, but it looks like they weren’t.”

Pitch felt his heart sink even as his guts twisted into a knot. So it was true, then? Even if the naiads were allied to Moon there was no reason for them to lie about such a thing, and combined with what Pitch had felt down in the crossing when he’d touched that fire, he knew as Lilly did that it couldn’t be a coincidence.

There wasn’t any denying it now. But rather than enlivening or delighting him, the news weighed on him like six tons of stone.

“What are we going to do?” he whispered, barely able to get discernible words out of his constricted throat. His golden gaze had become almost pleading in spite of his best efforts to remain calm. He could feel his heart racing just as it had back in that empty place when he’d touched the little black fire.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. He frowned at the inquiry. He hadn’t expected another question, he’d expected an answer!

But this was Lilly. She always knew how to set things right, how to calm him and help him make sense of things. She knew what she was doing.

So he answered her as best he could.

“I…I don’t know.” He thought hard about it, trying to put all of his turbulent, conflicting emotions to words. “I know this is supposed to be a good thing…I _want_ it to be a good thing…but I just don’t see how. _How_ can this be a good thing? Look at us! Look at where we are, at how everyone’s treated us since they found out about our bond! They regard you with disgust and contempt and actively hunt me like a criminal, like a disgusting thing that’s better off in the void. How can anyone accept this child since it’s ours? How can _it_ ever accept _us_ because it’s ours?”

He stopped rambling and sat there panting a little. When Lilly didn’t respond, he said almost desperately, “Say something! Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me this isn’t happening!” He bowed his head and clenched his teeth, struggling to calm down. “Tell me I haven’t made things worse…”

She moved then, lifting her hand to caress his cheek. “Don’t you dare shoulder the blame for this,” she admonished. “I had just as much to do with this as you. More, in fact, as I should have considered the ramifications of centuries of frolicking without precaution.”

In spite of everything he was feeling and thinking right then, he managed to laugh a little at her choice of words.

“Shut up,” she scolded gently when she heard him. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Of course you are,” he murmured, lifting his head to look deep into her beautiful green eyes once more. She may have been telling the truth on the matter, but he knew she’d used those particular words on purpose to ease his growing panic. It had worked spectacularly, and he wondered how something as simple and ridiculous as that had managed to calm him so effectively.

“Do not ever blame yourself for things like this, Pitch,” she told him, and her tone truly was serious now. She kept her gaze locked firmly with his to ensure that he was listening and understanding. “I am honestly sick of you always taking responsibility for things that happen to us. We knew this relationship wasn’t going to be easy from the first night we met, yet we never let that stop us before. You may have made mistakes, and yes some of them were stupid ones, but even those are not enough to make any of this your fault. My mother was the one who chose to overreact; you did not make that decision for her. Even if we had gone to her with the truth like we had discussed, she may have very well reacted in the same way, and then we’d be in this exact same position.”

“But if I wasn’t—”

“If you weren’t who and what you are then I doubt I ever would’ve fallen for you,” she said adamantly. “Then none of this would’ve happened, both the good and the bad. But we are what we are, and what’s happened to us has happened, including this baby, and I don’t regret any of it.”

She put a hand to her stomach almost subconsciously and drew another breath. “I am like you,” she admitted quietly. “I want to be happy about this, but I am also shocked and nervous and many other things. This child is a part of you and I could never be ashamed of it, and as much as I despise human children I could never hate one that’s of our own blood. Do you worry because you do not have any firsthand knowledge of or experience with children except to scare them?”

Pitch nodded, not even bothering to wonder how she’d known that. Lilly could always read him so well; she’d probably seen his every thought playing out on his expressive face.

“The only experience I have is from my own youth, and I can assure you that that’s the very last source I wish to draw from.” She scowled but pressed on, not letting the dark memories from her past stop her from focusing on the present. “Everyone has to start off somewhere, don’t they? It’s not as if every mother or father goes into parenthood an expert. Besides, if the Sun Woman can manage to make me who I am without doing _anything,_ then I can assure you that any attempts we make will be a thousand times better than that.”

She leaned forward unexpectedly to press her forehead against his. His hands instinctively moved from her shoulders to bury themselves within her thick curls, and his eyes squeezed shut as she told him, “At least we will love our child. Even if the rest of the world hates it and rejects it, at least it will have a home to return to. I do not even have that and look at where I am.” She laid a palm against his heart. “Look at what I have.”

For the first time in his entire existence, Pitch found himself fighting back tears. He clutched her tightly, determined not to let them escape and appear weak in front of her. His pride would be forever marred if he allowed himself to sink that low.

“The timing may be atrocious and it may have been the very last thing we were expecting,” his Lilly whispered, her breath brushing lightly across his face, “but it is by no means a bad thing. When you touched that essence did you feel any animosity or rejection?”

He shook his head slowly. No. No he hadn’t felt either of those things. Quite the contrary, it had felt warm and comforting, and had been shockingly trusting of him. It had even let him hold its essence in his hand _._ Pitch knew that that was the greatest sign of trust a spirit like Lilly could give, and his unborn child had given that to him freely. Why? What reason had he given it to trust him?

He frowned, perplexed by his own train of thought. Why _had_ it trusted him? Was it purely instinctual trust, the kind he assumed all very young offspring held for their parents before they grew old enough and wise enough to know better? He truly had no idea.

“You said that it insisted you touch it,” Lilly murmured, recalling what he’d told her earlier. “Meaning you spoke to it, and knowing you as I do, I’m sure you were anything but courteous towards it.”

Pitch felt a flush creep up his neck. She didn’t fail to notice this reaction even as he remained silent.

“So you acted just as you normally do, and yet it still trusted you enough to allow you to touch its essence.” She took a breath. “And at any point in time did it appear to hate or fear or become disgruntled by you?”

“No,” he admitted, surprised by his own answer.

“Then I think it’s safe to assume that it isn’t going to hate you or resent you,” she concluded. “I may not know much about children, but I know that the younger they are the more impressionable they are. That’s why those five idiots are so successful. So if you acting completely as yourself around this child didn’t dissuade it from trusting you, then nothing will.”

“But it doesn’t know what I did,” he countered, but a seed of hope had been planted inside of him.

“It doesn’t have to. Not now, anyway. What matters isn’t what you did, but who you are. The rest can be explained in time, and by that point it’ll be old enough to make its own decisions regarding what it is willing to believe about the both of us. Regardless of what happens then it will be completely out of our control, so it isn’t something we should bother worrying about.”

Pitch stared at her for a long moment, processing everything she’d said. Then he tugged gently at her hair, indicating without words what he wanted. She complied readily, shifting on the bed so that she was in his lap, her naked body leaning against his chest so he could hold her close. With his face pressed into her curls, he asked her, “How can you make everything sound so simple?”

Her body shook with a short laugh. “It’s all logical,” she assured him. One of her hands reached up to stroke his hair, smoothing back the dark strands. “Emotionally I’m just as torn up about this as you are, but deep down I know it’ll be all right. If we can survive a smiting from the Sun Woman, I’m fairly certain we can survive a baby.”

The corner of his mouth lifted a little at her poor attempt at humor, but it quickly drooped again.

“What’s she going to think of this?” he whispered. The moment the words left his mouth he clutched her tighter, signaling his growing dread.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lilly told him, and her voice was harsh. “I’ve told you a thousand times before: I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”

“But what if she tries to destroy me again?” His blood turned cold. “What if she tries to destroy our child?”

Lilly sat up in his embrace and looked deep into his eyes. After a moment’s thought, she said quietly, “She won’t. She can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Moon-man’s duty is to protect the children of Earth; it isn’t explicitly stated that this task is limited to human children. Knowing him as I do, he’ll undoubtedly take that to mean he must include spirits’ offspring as well, even if they’re yours. He may be manipulative and annoying, but he does take his job quite seriously.”

She smiled a little to reassure him but it quickly fell into a scowl. “If the naiads know, then I’m sure Moon-man does as well. Considering how protective he is of his precious children and just how overly-absorbed he is in my life thanks to his stupid need for atonement, I can assume with some certainty that he’s already gone to my mother to put her in her place in this matter.”

Pitch groaned. “I’d almost rather be struck down by her servants again than be indebted to him,” he growled, and it was clear from her expression that Lilly shared his sentiment.

“I am of the same mind,” she told him firmly. Then her eyes drifted. “But I think…I think we may not have a choice in this case.”

“What?” He was shocked that she would even insinuate such a thing.

“As distasteful and disgraceful as it will be, it is by far the better option,” she informed him, her green eyes immediately flicking back to his golden ones. “As much as I despise Moon-man and his lackeys, at least I know that they would never make any outright attempts on my existence or our child’s. Not only do they fear my mother’s wrath, but they aren’t free to pick and choose which children they are willing to protect and which they are not. If it takes being associated with them to ensure that the Sun Woman and her servants leave us alone, then I’m willing to accept that.”

Her words were choked at the end and her face twisted as if she could scarcely believe she was even saying such a horrid thing, but it was clear that she was determined.

“Why are you saying this?” he asked her, still stunned by her sudden change in mood regarding Moon and his Guardians.

“They helped us, Pitch. Even if they acted selfishly by doing so and expect something from us in return, at least they’re willing to help us. Before this child came to be, before my mother acted so irrationally, we were more than capable of dealing with our situation entirely on our own. But things have changed, Pitch. We have a child now, and you were almost destroyed.” Her lip quivered and she bowed her head. “I cannot go through that again,” she whispered. “I cannot bear to see you suffer.”

Pitch felt it again—that horrid fear that was now deeply implanted inside of her. It rose to the surface to torment her, and he knew she was reliving the events of the past few days. She feared losing him. She’d never feared such a thing before because there hadn’t been any serious risks to his existence, but now that they knew what the Sun Woman was capable of Lilly understood that their situation was dire. Pitch understood it, too, but he also couldn’t stand the idea of them ever relying on Moon for anything, least of all protection.

_If I can’t even protect her, if I can’t even protect myself—_

“Stop blaming yourself,” Lilly scolded, cutting sharply into his train of thought. “There’s no reason for you to feel guilty about any of this. As I said before you did not make my mother’s choices for her, nor did you make the decision for Moon-man to toy with us. He could’ve just as easily left us alone and then none of this would’ve happened, but he clearly chose not to do that. And if you’re upset over what happened that afternoon when you were injured, I’m far more to blame for that than you are. They were mere servants and I was surrounded by green; I should’ve been able to protect you.”

She looked and sounded disgusted with herself for having been bested by mere fire spirits, and in spite of everything Pitch found himself smiling a little at her indignation.

“I thought you were brilliant,” he said honestly, brushing her forehead with a kiss. But she just snorted.

“Don’t be condescending. It was a pathetic show and we both know it.”

They eyed each other in silence for a moment, he with a small grin still plastered on his face and she scowling a bit at the sight of it.

“It’s time for a change, Pitch,” she said at last, deciding to leave the issue of whether or not she’d done enough to protect him alone for the moment. “For better or for worse we’re stuck with what we have, and what we have is a whole host of problems and only one reasonable solution. As distasteful as it may be, we’ll have to go along with whatever Moon-man wants if we want to guarantee our safety for the foreseeable future.”

He hated to admit it—absolutely _hated_ it—but she was right. Pitch suddenly recalled something she’d said to him many, many years ago about having to adapt as things changed. She’d been talking about scaring at the time, but her words were just as meaningful now as they were back then. She was right in that they’d done remarkably well in taking care of themselves and protecting their secret for many decades, but their perfect run was up now. The sun and moon spirits both knew of their bond, and it was only a matter of time before the rest of the spirit world did as well. They had many enemies and no allies, and as powerful as Lilly and he both were (though admittedly he wasn’t at the moment, given all that he’d recently suffered) they simply couldn’t defeat everyone. In the past they would’ve undoubtedly faced the bleak future alone for the sake of their pride, but that was before the Sun Woman had demonstrated the full breadth of her callousness and before Lilly had gotten with child. As much as Pitch wanted to damn the consequences and go straight back to his realm with Lilly without promising Moon a thing, he understood her point and recognized that such a reaction simply wasn’t logical.

“He must’ve planned this,” he growled, thinking of Moon and his astounding ability to manipulate everyone and everything to his own advantage. _This is what he wanted from the very beginning of my existence: for me to be subjugated so he can keep an eye on me. Finding out about my bond with Lilly was just a bonus, for now he can enslave us both to his whims._

“Most certainly,” Lilly agreed with a dark scowl. “He manipulated us all from the start, and now he undoubtedly believes he’s finally getting what he always wanted. But it is ultimately our choice to make, yours and mine. We can still refuse him if we wish, and I say we ought to if his demands are wholly unreasonable. I’d rather shoulder the risks than crawl before him like a dog. But if he makes his intentions plain to us and they are at all acceptable, then I see no reason to refuse allegiance with him.”

Pitch nodded broodingly, still quite aggravated over the whole thing but finding no fault with her logic. Moon couldn’t argue with them for wanting to bargain, right? His ceaseless meddling was the sole reason they were in this situation in the first place. The Nightmare King would _never_ consider calling a truce with Moon and those ridiculous Guardians had the circumstances been any different, and the older spirit had to know that.

Speaking of Guardians…

“He’ll probably ask you to take the oath,” he murmured to Lilly, who’d settled against him once more with her head resting on his shoulder. Holding her close like this made it easier to discuss the matter without losing his temper. “Even if he doesn’t require you to work for those brats, becoming a Guardian will at least enable him to keep a close eye on you.”

She groaned. “I’d thought of that, too” she admitted. “As much as those idiots will get on my damn nerve, I think I’ll be able to put up with it. They don’t get together much, after all, so I doubt I’ll have to spend a great deal of time in their company. As long as they don’t order me around or start inviting themselves into our home, I’ll be willing to tolerate Guardianship if it means keeping other spirits off our backs.” She thought for a moment. “Though I don’t see how that will work, what with that requirement about belief…”

“I’m sure they’ll think of something. They have ways of spreading belief when necessary. It worked out well enough for Frost, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant. If I become a Guardian and I’m forgotten then we’ll both disappear, remember?”

He frowned. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that, especially since he was the one who only recently had taken advantage of that very stipulation. After a great deal of thought, weighing all of the pros and cons in his mind, Pitch said rather slowly and reluctantly, “I suppose there are worse ways of going to the void than just fading away.”

That obviously wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. “I can’t believe you’re okay with that,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with becoming a Guardian,” he retorted. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re impossible.”

Their eyes met and they grinned at each other. It was astounding how happy she made him, how light and acceptable she made these horrid circumstances seem in comparison to how they’d looked in his mind. It was as if every troubled thought that had been plaguing him had been effortlessly washed away, cleansed by her words and her touch and her affection. Even if things weren’t fully settled yet between them and Moon, at least now Pitch could go forward with a clear plan in mind.

“I love you,” she told him, then added before he could respond, “and I’m cold.”

He laughed, earning him a glare. “I brought your clothes,” he pointed out, gesturing to the garments still stacked neatly at the foot of the bed.

“How thoughtful,” Lilly commented dryly, but he chuckled because he knew she wasn’t actually angry. He let her go so she could scoot close enough to grab the garments, and watched in silent appreciation as she quickly donned them.

“You’re going to have to get something else to wear,” he pointed out as she slipped into her white shirt, the last of her clothes.

“I’m going to get so fat,” she lamented with a wry curve to her mouth. “And I’ll blame you every day.”

“What happened to you taking responsibility for the ‘frolicking?’”

She slapped him playfully on the leg as it was the closest thing she could reach. “I take responsibility for the consequences, not the acts themselves.” She blushed slightly, a sight that was both incredibly rare and stunningly beautiful. “Most of them, anyway.”

“Hmmm,” Pitch agreed with a heated smile. “Indeed, I clearly recall some of them being entirely of your idea.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, embarrassed, earning her a deep chuckle. Then she looked around the room and said with a weary sigh, “Now I just have to figure out what the hell they did with my staff.”


	20. Unexpected Conversation

As it turned out, Lilliana’s staff wasn’t in the room with them or anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Needless to say Pitch was furious about it and wanted to go straightaway to demand it be given back, but the flora spirit somehow managed to dissuade him.

“It’s likely just a precaution,” she assured him, holding his hand and running her thumb across the rapidly beating pulse in his wrist.

“It’s absurd is what it is! They have no right to withhold it from you!”

“No, they don’t, but rushing over there and screaming at them about it isn’t going to solve anything. They can’t destroy it without harming me and the baby, so they probably kept it just to make sure I didn’t try and attack them.”

“Unbelievable!” Pitch seethed, but Lilliana reached up with her other hand to touch his face, effectively drawing his attention back to her. Golden eyes—burning with rage and indignation—stared intently at her.

“We have bigger issues to worry about right now, Pitch,” she reminded him. “Getting worked up over things like this will only take our attention away from what’s important. Don’t worry about my staff. They’ll give it back when Moon-man’s decided he’s had enough of us.”

“He’s trapped us here like animals!”

“We’d be trapped here anyway, Pitch, even with my staff. You’re too weak right now to leave of your own accord and I don’t have the power to take you with me. I can’t teleport like you can.”

With a gentle tug on his hand she pulled him closer, and out of habit he pressed his forehead to hers. His eyes closed, and in the presence of her calm and warmth his anger gradually dissipated.

“It is all right for you to be upset on my behalf,” she told him quietly, “but don’t lose your temper. Please. We really can’t afford to lose ourselves in Moon-man’s petty mind games.”

That was the only reason she wasn’t more upset about having her staff stolen—because she knew it was just another way the moon spirit was toying with them, and she refused to be goaded by such a thing. She was irritated, of course, and more than a little angry, but just as she’d explained to Pitch she knew getting worked up about it was exactly what Moon-man wanted.

Unfortunately, her love was a bit more hot-headed than she was, so it had taken some convincing to get him to recognize what she already understood. A slight tremble passed through his body as he took a calming breath, the rush of air as he let it out again rustling her red curls. Lilliana released his hand so she could put her arms around him, holding him close. A moment of quiet passed between them, and she closed her eyes so as to enjoy it. After all that had happened to them in the course of just a few days, it was nice to have some time together like this, even if it was fleeting.

“We’ll go talk to him,” she started to say, but Pitch interrupted her.

“I’ll go. I don’t want him anywhere near you right now.”

“But Pitch…”

“I’ll be fine.” He pulled back slightly so he could kiss her, the gesture brief but tender. “I started all this,” he murmured. “So I think it’s only fair if I’m the one who puts an end to it.”

Lilliana really didn’t like the idea of him going to speak to Moon-man alone, especially when he’d only just gotten hold of his temper, but after a bit of thought she realized he was right. Everything that had happened up until now had been set into motion many, many centuries ago with that massive rift between Pitch and Moon-man. Her involvement and the Guardians’ creation and virtually everything that had happened between them all since that time stemmed from that one critical moment, and nothing was ever going to be resolved until the Nightmare King and the moon spirit first sorted through their longstanding differences. If they couldn’t come to some sort of terms on their own, then anything Lilliana said or did was just going to be wasted effort, like patching up cracks at the crest of a dam when the very foundation was crumbling and rotten.

_They both had a hand in starting this, now they both have to work together to try and end it…even if they still despise each other._

She knew it wasn’t likely to go well, their meeting, but she gave in with a small nod. Pitch looked a little relieved, as if he’d been worried that she would insist on going along. Lilliana knew fully well that he’d let her accompany him if she pushed the matter, but she would never do that to him. Despite his temper and (at times) rather reckless behavior, Pitch was more than capable of making his own choices. She didn’t have to like them, as she didn’t like this one, but when they were driven by logic instead of unchecked emotion she had no place to push or argue. She was his love, his eternal spouse, not his mother or his handler and certainly not his ruler. In spite of the nagging belief that this meeting wasn’t going to go well, Lilliana respected Pitch enough to let him have his way in this matter.

“Just don’t make me regret it,” she warned. “The last time you convinced me to let you deal with a problem on your own, you practically started a war.”

Pitch flinched at the reminder of what had happened in Burgess. “I’ll do my very best to keep my wits about me,” he promised solemnly. Then he smiled unexpectedly. “Even if you’re not in the same room, I know better than to pick a fight when you’re close enough to chase me down and punish me.”

She rolled her eyes, causing him to laugh and pull her into a warm embrace that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“I’ll do my best,” he repeated in a whisper before letting her go. Lilliana noticed that his attention had drifted a little and he was now staring at her stomach, a slight frown playing at his mouth as he drifted into his thoughts.

“Just remember you can always walk away from him,” she told him. “You don’t have to agree to anything you don’t want to…though I’m sure he’ll try to make you.”

“I’m sure,” he agreed absently.

She watched him for a moment, then reached out and took his hand again, guiding it to her belly and pressing his palm there. “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

“It’s just so strange…” The words trailed off, as if he wasn’t sure how to even begin expressing himself.

Studying his expression, Lilliana realized he was just a little overwhelmed still by the unexpected addition. She gestured at herself with her free hand. “Just be grateful you’re on the outside of this particular equation.”

It took him a moment to understand the jest, but when he finally did he laughed warmly.

“You’re right,” he teased. “I’d hate to be you right now. I don’t envy you one bit.”

He gave her stomach a slight caress as he withdrew his hand. “I’d better go now. I don’t want to be stuck in this insufferable realm a moment longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Can you point me to the kitchen? After that horrendous excuse of a meal, I’m ready for some decent food.”

_And cooking will help keep my mind off of you being alone in a room with Moon-man._

Pitch nodded and held the door open for her as they stepped out into the corridor. He gave simple but clear instructions on how to reach the kitchen then disappeared in the opposite direction. Left alone in the cold silver-and-gray corridors, Lilliana wondered at how eerily silent the place was now that she was alone. While it was quiet most of the time back home (apart from the ever-blabbering Nightmares), there it was a warm, embracing sort of quiet, the kind you could sit back and enjoy with a good book, whereas Moon-man’s realm was uncomfortably quiet, similar to how the Golden Palace became whenever the Sun Woman was in a foul mood. Lilliana didn’t like that feeling, that ever-present tension as if the very walls were glaring down at her, and not having the familiar comfort of her staff only made it worse.

But even so, the flora spirit lifted her chin and strode stubbornly through the corridors, refusing to allow uneasiness to rule her or to even show itself on her face. She was a powerful spirit, not some pathetic child. Silence wouldn’t deter her from anything.

She found the kitchen with little fuss; it seemed Moon-man had kept everything in the same place since Pitch had last visited. The room was surprisingly small compared to the one she had back home, but it would do, and after some rifling through the cupboards Lilliana decided to just make another stew.

 _A_ better _one,_ she thought firmly, piling ingredients up on the small wooden table in the middle of the room before heating up the stove. She worked swiftly and efficiently, and soon enough the base of her intended stew was boiling and thickening in a large pot. She added things to it from time to time, stirring them together with a wooden spoon and letting the delicious smell fill her nose.

 _So far, so good,_ she thought, meaning not only the progress of her intended meal but also the fact that she couldn’t hear any shouting or magic blasts _._ Either Pitch hadn’t found Moon-man yet, or he was holding true to his word that he would do his best not to be provoked during their discussion. She truly hoped it was the latter.

Suddenly, Lilliana was very aware of the presence of an approaching spirit. Even though Moon-man’s power emanated from this place just as the Sun Woman’s did at the Golden Palace, his realm wasn’t nearly as suffocating, so it was easy for her to not only pick up on that essence but to identify precisely who it was coming towards her.

_Frost._

She curled her lip, but decided it was better than having that big-mouthed North or incessantly rambling Tooth Fairy butting in on her. She’d even prefer the annoying, arrogant Pooka over either of those two, though she couldn’t decide if that rabbit was better or worse than the frost spirit.

 _Worse,_ she concluded as Frost’s presence continued to draw nearer and nearer. With her back to the door, Lilliana focused on the stove and silently hoped that the young spirit would just pass by the kitchen without bothering her.

No such luck.

“Hey,” his boyish voice sounded from the doorway. He sounded rather surprised, as if he hadn’t sensed her presence and therefore hadn’t expected to see her down here.

 _He’s so oblivious it’s almost sad_.

“How’re you feeling?” Frost asked, coming a few steps further into the room.

“Fine,” she replied noncommittally without turning around.

“How’s Pitch?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t get all shy now. I know you’ve got a bigger mouth on you than that.”

Lilliana turned her eyes to the ceiling as if silently asking for patience. “I’m busy,” she reported, ensuring a bit of irritation crept into the words in the hopes he’d take a hint.

He didn’t.

“I can see that. Smells good.” The vaguest smell of ice and cold wind hit her nose as Frost leaned over her shoulder to get a look at what she was making. “Isn’t that what we just had for dinner?” he questioned, frowning a little in his confusion.

“I’m remaking it. It tasted foul.”

“Did not!”

“Mmhmm,” she said wordlessly, rapidly growing weary of the conversation.

“Well _I_ thought it was good…”

From the way he was talking, one would think Frost had been the one who’d made the meal, but Lilliana knew that stupid little boy couldn’t cook. Whenever he was hungry he just stole something and blamed it on ‘mischief’.

 _Ridiculous,_ she thought, spearing the boy with a glare as he floated up to sit on the counter. Freezing in place with the filthy backside of his pants mere centimeters from the countertop, the frost spirit lifted off again and instead settled his lightweight body on the top of his staff, staring down at her from his new perch.

“Why do you do that?” she asked, eyeing him with obvious disgust.

“Why not? I get a good view from up here.”

“You look like an animal.”

“You’re just jealous ’cause you can’t do this with _your_ staff,” Frost countered with a smug grin.

Lilliana rolled her eyes at the childish argument, already rethinking her decision that becoming a Guardian may not be such a terrible idea.

_Pitch is right. The sooner we get out of here the better._

As if on cue, the sound of angry shouting reached their ears. Both Frost and Lilliana turned their attention to the stone ceiling, but within a moment the inarticulate echoes had dissipated. The flora spirit heaved a long sigh.

 _I told him to keep hold of his temper,_ she thought, shaking her head slightly as she turned back to the stove.

“Does he know how to do anything calmly?” Frost asked dryly.

“Do you know how to do anything without turning it into a game?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Good point.”

He watched in silence for several minutes, during which the flora spirit didn’t pay him a single bit of attention. Her concentration was split between the task at hand and wondering what was going on between her Pitch and Moon-man that was stirring up such a fuss.

 _Please don’t let it get too far out of control,_ she silently begged her love. _I know a lot’s happened lately and you’ve got a lot on your mind right now, but we really can’t afford any more mistakes. This may be our one chance to put everything behind us so we can focus on the future instead of having to constantly put out fires from the past._

Frost spoke again, breaking into her thoughts rather abruptly.

“What made you like him?”

The question surprised her, so much so that she actually turned to look at him. “What?”

“A spirit like you seems to prefer calm and order, which is the complete opposite of Pitch. So what made you like him so much?”

Lilliana stared for a moment before turning away again. She hated it when spirits stuck their noses into her affairs (especially when the answers they sought dealt with matters as personal as this), but as Frost and the others had helped her and Pitch considerably by repelling her mother’s servants, the flora spirit couldn’t deny that she owed the idiots something. If information was what they wanted in exchange, then so be it, as long as they didn’t try to sneak in any inquiries whose answers would affect Pitch.

 _Consider this compensation,_ she thought before responding to the frost spirit’s question.

“He took me as I am,” she told him, stirring the stew idly so she had an excuse not to look at him. “He saw me as an individual, not as some extension of my mother. All the other spirits I’d met only cared to see me as the Sun Woman’s daughter, and treated me as such. They either grudgingly tolerated my company for fear of upsetting me and, by extension, insulting my mother, or they fawned over me and showered me with compliments only to whisper behind my back about how arrogant and selfish and ungrateful I was. Back when I was younger and far more naïve I would call spirits out for doing such a thing, but they would either inform me that it was only to be expected considering my character or they’d accuse me of making up stories just to avoid being grateful to them after all they’d ‘so generously done for me.’” She shook her head in disgust. “I was nothing more than a tool to them, something to be used and tossed away when no longer necessary, just as I had been used by my mother and continue to be used by Moon-man in his ridiculous quest to ease his guilt. No matter who or what they were, spirits were always the same, and I soon learned to keep my mouth shut and just walk away whenever the truth inevitably revealed itself. It saved me a whole lot of trouble.”

“You can’t say there weren’t _any_ spirits who—” Frost started, but fell silent when green eyes swiveled around to look at him.

“You Guardians are supposed to be the warmest and most welcoming of spirits, but I don’t recall any of you being open to me,” she said tonelessly, making sure to keep her face just as blank.

“What about North? He likes everybody, and he told me himself that your first meeting went all right.”

Lilliana made a dismissive noise and looked away again. “Yes, he liked me and welcomed me with open arms, but only because Moon-man had put him up to it.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, yes. Apparently he thought I was lonely, so he asked your fat friend to be extra nice to me so I could finally have a pal.” The words dripped with derision, so much so they almost sounded sarcastic.

“Maybe Manny just genuinely wanted to help you.”

She scoffed at that. “I’ve known him for centuries, boy, so I know for a fact that he never does anything without the expectation of some sort of return. He claims to offer me help in good faith, but in truth he merely seeks penance to ease his own conscience. Such is the extent of his selfishness and manipulation.” She shook her head slightly. “But if you haven’t figured that out on your own by now then I doubt you will ever understand.”

The frost spirit stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked defensively.

_Is he really that naive?_

“Why do you think he kept quiet for so long after making you a spirit?”

“North said it was to help me find my center,” Frost said at once. “Just giving away the answer makes it too easy, and honestly I can appreciate being a Guardian a lot more now that I’ve worked through all the problems for myself.”

“Of course you do, because appreciation makes you more agreeable. Did that fairy not say that you didn’t want to be a Guardian in the beginning?”

“Well, yeah,” the younger spirit admitted reluctantly. “But that was because I didn’t understand! I thought they were stuffy and stuck up…kinda like you do,” he added with a bit of a smirk, which aggravated Lilliana.

“Hmmm, yes,” she said with more than a little aggravation. “Then all of a sudden they start making you promises to get you to help them, and along the way you magically find all the answers you were looking for, which just so happens to coincide with your changing your mind and deciding to become a Guardian after all.”

Now it was her turn to smirk, but unlike Frost’s hers was both sharp and exceedingly cold. “A bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Frost said firmly, completely missing her sarcasm.

Lilliana pursed her lips. _He really is a naïve child._

“If you actually spent some time with the kids, I think you’d understand,” the frost spirit told her. “Or at least watch what we do.”

“I have no desire to do either of those things,” she informed him stiffly. “I find the lot of you quite aggravating.”

“Well, you’d better get used to it if you’re gonna be a Guardian.”

That particular comment caught and held Lilliana’s attention. For one thing, the seemingly innocuous comment made it abundantly clear to her that Moon-man had all-but decided that she was going to become the next Guardian, almost as if the moon spirit believed she had no right to refuse the position. Considering his selfish and meddlesome ways, Lilliana supposed she shouldn’t be surprised by such audacity, and yet the fact that Frost was acting as if the decision was already set in stone when nobody had even asked her or Pitch for their opinion both irritated and insulted her tremendously. But then there was the notable lack of “and because you’re going to have your own kid soon” (or something to that effect) included at the end of that statement. Did that mean that Moon-man hadn’t shared that juicy little tidbit with his pets yet, or was Frost just being extremely guarded so as to prevent her from finding out that he knew?

Lilliana wasn’t sure how she was going to get a definitive answer to that question without tipping the young frost spirit off to the fact that she suspected something, but decided then and there that she’d find a way to do it before the conversation was over.

“So, what, you liked Pitch because he doesn’t like your mom?”

It took her a moment to realize that Frost was steering her away from the current line of discussion and back to the original topic: why she liked Pitch. She was quiet for a bit, wondering if there was an ulterior motive behind his wanting to change the subject, but ultimately decided to humor the boy.

“Pitch was the only one who was completely open with me,” she informed him, grabbing a spice shaker from off the counter and shaking some thyme into the pot. (She’d have much preferred fresh herbs, but she’d take what she could get.) As she stirred the dried leaves into the stew, she continued. “After being manipulated by all those self-serving spirits, I admit that my expectations had become exceedingly low. All I wanted was for someone to just be _honest_ with me, not to mask their true thoughts and intentions behind forced smiles and false assurances. Pitch is far from perfect, I was never under any illusions about that, and he certainly didn’t like me or trust me at first, but he made that perfectly clear right from the beginning. He told me precisely what he thought without a care for my power or my position or my bloodline.”

She grinned suddenly. “I sort of harassed him into becoming friends with me, but I don’t think he minds so much anymore.”

“I should say not,” Frost commented with a bit of a chuckle.

“Even when he lied to me, which occurred quite rarely and only early on in our relationship, it was never with the intent of using me and it certainly wasn’t for the sake of appeasing my mother. Hell, the worst he ever did was feign curiosity about other realms in order to glean information from me, but I would hardly call that a lie or even manipulation since I knew very well what he was doing and just didn’t give a damn. He could have very easily gotten that same information elsewhere if he’d wanted to.

“After sharing his company for only a short time, it became clear to me that all the stories I had ever heard about him being this dark, twisted, power-hungry spirit whose only concern was himself weren’t entirely true. He put himself first in a lot of things, yes, but he still respected me and my wishes, even when there was no benefit to him for doing so. I initially took to him because I saw him as something of a kindred spirit, someone who was also disrespected and disregarded by the rest of the world, but after a time—I don’t really know for sure how long it took—I just started seeing him as something more than a friend.” She thought about it for a moment. “I think the first time I realized he was truly special to me was when he first invited me down to his realm.”

“Oh?” Frost asked with mild surprise.

“Rumors abounded about the depths, so naturally I was curious to see it, but when he asked me to go I distinctly remember thinking: ‘This is it’. Despite the fact that no one knew what his realm was really like, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect, and I expected that the shadows down there would smother my power almost completely, leaving me quite vulnerable. I knew that if _any_ part of him wished to see me destroyed that he wouldn’t dare pass up on such an opportunity, but I went there anyway because I trusted him and wanted to keep trusting him.”

She smiled as memories flooded back to her, warming her in a way the hot stovetop and simmering stewpot couldn’t. “He had all the opportunity in the world to destroy me, but he didn’t make a single move to do so. For as selfish and self-serving as everyone claimed him to be, that night his motives were pure. He brought me to his home because he wanted me to see it, and even though he didn’t say a word about it I could tell from the way he watched me that he genuinely wanted me to like it.” Her smile widened. “He was so cute.”

“Cute?” Frost questioned, his face twisting a bit as if the word tasted funny. Apparently he couldn’t imagine the Nightmare King being cute.

“Hmmm,” Lilliana confirmed with some amusement. “Extremely.”

It was quiet for a bit as she tasted the stew. It was ready for the vegetables, so she moved past Frost to the table to retrieve the ones she’d chopped earlier. Carrots, potatoes, and onions were all swept into the pot with one expert motion. Once it was boiling again, she turned down the heat and set the lid. Then she took a step back. It was going to be a while before it was done.

Leaning her hip against the counter, she told Frost, “The way he acted around me that night was more than enough confirmation for me. I knew then that Pitch didn’t just respect and accept and trust me, he actually cared about me. And it wasn’t because of who my mother is or because he feared my power, but because of _me._ ” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’d never dreamed that anyone could ever care for me in that way. I’d never even hoped for such a thing…and I decided that night that even if it turned out to be nothing more than a passing fancy for him that I wouldn’t hold it against him. I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. Remaining friends with him was better than nothing at all.”

A small smile touched her mouth. “Words can never express how thankful and happy I was when I realized I was anything but a passing fancy to him.”

The smile disappeared and she glared at Frost. “Satisfied?”

“Yup!” he confirmed, before adding, “You know, you’re not all that bad when you’re not threatening to burn or crush everyone.”

Lilliana rolled her eyes. “Please. I only told you because you guys helped us, and I’m a woman who hates owing favors.”

“Uh huh.”

He was still grinning, which annoyed her beyond no end.

“What did you come down here for, anyway?” she asked, hoping he’d remember and go away once he retrieved it.

“A snack.”

“What happened to ‘didn’t we just eat dinner’?”

“Well, I can’t eat a lot of hot stuff in one sitting, so I’m still kinda hungry.” He blew a couple of snowflakes into the room as if to demonstrate his point about being a winter spirit. Lilliana shook her head at the unnecessary display.

“Go on then,” she encouraged with a jerk of the head, and Frost obliged, slipping down from his perch to rifle through cupboards and drawers for something to eat. It took a while, but he finally gave a triumphant “Ah-hah!” and turned around with what was clearly half a cake on a platter.

“North made this for after dinner, but I thought he’d eaten it all,” Frost explained as he set the cake down on the table and floated over to the cutlery drawer for a fork. “I’m surprised he didn’t,” he added as he sat down and started shoveling food into his mouth.

Lilliana made no comment over the fact that she and Pitch had been passed over for cake earlier, as neither of them liked sweets much and North already knew that. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised to see the enormous dessert, as such sweet things comprised a significant percentage of fat man’s diet, and she watched in silence as Frost slowly but surely worked his way through the remnants as if determined to polish it all off on his own.

 _He’s going to make himself sick,_ she thought as he kept right on eating with no sign of slowing down.

“Want some?” Frost asked, mistaking her stares of disgust for stares of want and gesturing at what remained of the cake with his fork-free hand.

“I don’t like sweets,” she told him truthfully, but even as the words left her mouth she found herself wanting a piece. _What the hell?_

“Oh.” He swallowed. “I’m not one for them much, either, but North’s cakes are always good.” Then he pulled a face. “Except the fruit cake. That’s always a bit weird…”

Lilliana wasn’t really listening. She was still wondering why in the hell she was suddenly in the mood for a great big slice of North’s disgusting dessert.

 _Is this your doing,_ she thought accusingly, and almost as if to answer her the scent of rich, decadent frosting hit her nostrils, making her mouth water. _Dammit, baby, you’re not even born yet and already you’re getting on my nerves._

Something that sounded very much like giggling filled her ears, and Lilliana stiffened, staring at Frost and then around the room, wondering if it had been her imagination.

 _Had to be,_ she decided. _Frost didn’t hear it at all. He didn’t even react._

She frowned. Thankfully, though, the stew was finally cooked so she was distracted from having to think further on the matter. She went to the cupboards to retrieve a bowl, and ladled a hefty portion into it. Then, lacking anywhere else to sit, she took the chair opposite Frost’s and ate her meal while the frost spirit continued to stuff himself silly with cake.

“What about you?” he asked around a mouthful. “Didn’t you just eat too? How come you’re still so hungry?”

Lilliana opened her mouth to say something noncommittal, but changed her mind at the last second. _This is what I’ve been waiting for. Time to see if Moon-man’s mouth has been running in my absence._

“I need the extra calories,” she said casually, but from behind the safety of her thick curls (which had fallen around her face as she bent over her bowl with the pretense of taking another bite) she watched Frost closely, studying his reaction.

To her great surprise, the boy’s response had nothing to do with the baby at all.

“Yeah, well, you were out of it for quite a while there, so you’ve got some catching up to do.”

Neither his tone nor his face betrayed any deceit, and he continued to eat without a single hitch of the fork or mouth. Lilliana was pleased that the Guardians didn’t know of her pregnancy yet, as they were the very _last_ spirits she wanted to know right now, but at the same time she wondered why it was that Moon-man hadn’t told them yet.

 _Maybe he’s learned his lesson about interfering,_ she thought, but quickly dismissed the notion. _More likely is that he’s holding off so he can use the information against us._

The thought angered and upset her, but she figured there was no point getting worked up about it now. Better to wait until Pitch returned and she had a better idea of Moon-man’s intentions.

About ten or fifteen minutes passed in silence while the two spirits ate. Lilliana’s helping of stew was almost gone and Frost had eaten his way through nearly three-quarters of that sickening cake when brisk footsteps suddenly sounded from down the corridor. Lilliana knew who it was immediately, but Frost once again looked completely surprised when Pitch appeared in the kitchen. The winter spirit choked around his fork and came rather close to spitting up the food he’d just shoveled into his mouth. Pitch ignored him completely and moved straight to Lilliana’s side.

“Here,” he said, passing her staff to her.

“Thanks. How’d it go?”

His lip curled. “I’ll tell you later,” he told her quietly, the words carrying an obvious undertone of ‘when we’re alone’. She didn’t miss, either, how his golden eyes flashed with barely-suppressed fury and something else she couldn’t quite put a name to.

“That bad, huh,” she said as she propped her staff against the table so she could finish eating. _Moon-man must’ve made some awful demands then._

Frost was staring at them with his mouth hanging open, apparently shocked that Pitch was not only capable of having a normal conversation but that Lilliana was quite comfortable with having the Nightmare King lean over her with one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the tabletop. She knew that from an outsider’s perspective such a position appeared rather intimidating, almost threatening, but she recognized it for what it was and knew Pitch was being possessive and protective rather than aggressive.

 _It must’ve gone really,_ really _badly…_

“Here,” she said suddenly, dipping her spoon into the bowl and lifting out some of the contents. “Try this.”

It was clear from his expression that Pitch wasn’t in the mood to eat, but he obliged her anyway and opened his mouth. Lilliana slipped the spoon between his lips and watched as he tasted the food with a slight frown.

“That’s what it’s supposed to taste like,” she informed him, and saw his golden eyes warm a bit as understanding finally dawned on him. Satisfied that she’d successfully distracted him from his dark thoughts (at least for the moment), she turned back to her meal.

“It does taste better,” he agreed, leaning a little closer so he could murmur into her ear, “You were right.”

“As always,” she said with no degree of modesty, which made him smile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Frost slip quietly from the room, leaving the two of them alone. Pitch either didn’t notice or didn’t care, as he never took his eyes off Lilliana. He waited patiently until she was done eating before taking her hand and leading her back to their room, where they could discuss what had happened between him and Moon-man in relative privacy.


	21. Moon's Demands

The moment the door was closed, Pitch pushed Lilly up against it and wrapped his arms around her in a firm embrace. He buried his face in the curve where her neck and shoulder met, completely uncaring for the fact that her thick curls were on the verge of smothering him. If anything, he was glad for them, as they helped to block out the sickening stench of Moon’s ancient realm.

_How I loathe this place!_

He felt Lilly’s right arm shift slightly as she set aside her staff, then her hands were on his back as she held him tight.

“What happened?” she asked softly, her sweet breath fanning his neck as she spoke to him.

He couldn’t answer her. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t _have_ an answer. Moon had given him an impossible choice, and the fact that he was being forced to make it weighed heavily on his mind and even heavier on his heart.

“What did he say?”

Again her voice was quiet, as if she believed he was some fragile thing that would break into pieces if treated too harshly. Maybe he _would_ break… There was just too much going on right now, far too many changes happening all at once. Pitch was physically and mentally and emotionally drained, and yet their tribulations were still far from over. Maybe Lilly would understand…she’d always been so incredibly understanding…but somewhere deep inside he wondered if this would be the thing that finally broke her. What if, even after he explained, she became furious or felt insulted or was incredibly hurt? He didn’t want her to endure any of those things, especially not now, in this place, with a child growing inside of her.

_“‘If you truly love her then this shouldn’t even be a choice.’”_

Moon’s words rang in Pitch’s ears, causing him to grind his teeth in fury and frustration and anguish. His love for Lilly was far from superficial, of that he was absolutely certain. So then why was this decision so incredibly difficult for him to make?

_Does that mean I don’t love her as much as I think I do?_

The very thought of that hurt him tremendously. He clutched at Lilly desperately, and he couldn’t stop the tremors that had suddenly taken over his legs.

Misreading the tension in his body and the heavy, prolonged silence, Lilly asked him, “Did he tell you to leave me?”

The Nightmare King barked out a short, humorless laugh. “It wouldn’t have been an issue if he had. I’d have told him to go fuck himself.”

“Then what’s wrong, Pitch? Why is it so hard to tell me?”

Darkness, why could she always read him so well? He tightened his hold on her, determined not to lose her, determined to never let her go.

“Please tell me.” Her beautiful voice was filled with concern for him. She touched him continuously, rubbing his back and shoulders soothingly before reaching up to stroke her fingers through his black hair. “Don’t try to struggle through this alone,” she told him softly. “If you can’t resolve it on your own, then please share it with me so that I can help you.”

“Lilly…”

He said her name on a breath, a whispered plea that she didn’t fail to catch.

“Talk to me,” she said into his ear, still smoothing his hair back with her gentle hands. “Tell me something easier. Does he want me to become a Guardian?”

Pitch took a shuddering breath, let it out slowly. “Yes.” His voice was surprisingly calm considering how tenuous his present grip on control seemed to be. “But not just in name. He wants you to actually work with those brats, though he wouldn’t tell me why. He said he’d rather explain it to you directly.”

“Did he happen to mention what my title would be?”

Pitch would’ve laughed if he hadn’t felt so worn. Just thinking about what Moon had said made him want to roll his eyes.

“Peace,” he muttered, to which she responded with a short, dry laugh.

“Oh, that’s going to be a story and a half.”

He nodded a mute agreement, still holding onto her tightly and not daring to look at her. 

Sensing his lingering confliction, Lilly asked him, “What else? Did you have to bargain for my staff or did he just give it back?”

“He gave it back. Something about being grateful that you trusted him enough to use the Pool and not having the right opportunity to return it to you sooner.” Pitch gave her a little squeeze. “You really didn’t promise him anything in exchange for access to the Pool?”

“Of course not. I’m not some senseless broad who makes impossible promises to the enemy for the sake of my dying love. Only a fool would fall for that old trick.”

She drew a long breath, and Pitch knew she was fighting back mental images of his burned and broken self. He wished he could delve into her mind and just wipe all those dark memories away, but he couldn’t, and he’d never forgive himself for that.

“Besides,” Lilly went on, “he’s a far better manipulator than that. If he’d demanded payment then and there, his precious puppets would’ve seen him for what he truly is. Waiting until now has given him an advantage.”

“You’re right,” he agreed on a mutter.

“So is that it on my end? He just wants me to be the newest addition to his menagerie?”

He shook his head slightly at her choice of words before nodding. “That’s all.”

“Hmmm…”

She was quiet for a bit. Pitch knew she was wondering about the nature of Moon’s demands from the Nightmare King considering how little his old friend had requested from her. A part of him hoped she’d guess the answer so that he’d be spared from having to explain himself, but an even bigger part of him hoped the thought would never even cross her mind.

_If it does, does that mean she doesn’t think very highly of me, or does it simply mean that she knows me incredibly well?_

He wasn’t sure, and he honestly didn’t want to find out.

At last, Lilly spoke again. “Pitch?”

“Hm?”

“What did Moon ask you to do?”

He still didn’t want to talk about it, but Pitch had to admit that he was feeling slightly more loose-tongued now that she’d walked him through less troubling topics.

_Why does she always know precisely what to do?_

He took a breath.

“He wants me to relinquish my position as Nightmare King.”

The words left his mouth far easier than Pitch ever thought they would, but even he couldn’t deny just how monotonous they sounded. It was as if his mind was trying to separate him from reality by snatching away all of his emotions, leaving him painfully numb and empty.

“And?”

So she knew there was more…

“Not just the title,” he went on in the same detached voice. “I’d have to give up my throne and even my globe. I’d be forbidden from reshaping any of my Nightmares, and I’d only be allowed to touch dreams in the direst of circumstances when I need strength replenished quickly…but even then I’d have to get permission from Moon or Sandman to do so. He said it’s too great a temptation for it to possibly continue unrestricted.”

Such a deceptively simple exchange: a mere title for Lilly’s protection. The choice was so obvious it shouldn’t have instilled such confliction in him, and yet the decision was far from easy for Pitch to make. He recognized the fact that a title alone meant absolutely nothing in the face of Lilly’s safety, but even so he didn’t want to stop being the Nightmare King. Being the Nightmare King was the one thing apart from his Lilly that he’d sworn he’d never give up, and now Moon was in a position to demand that he sacrifice one for the sake of the other. His old friend had called him selfish for being unable to decide, but Moon didn’t understand— _couldn’t_ understand—and Pitch honestly didn’t know if Lilly could understand, either. His every intent was to see to her protection, happiness, and comfort, to ensure that she was only provided with the very best, but how could he possibly fulfill such promises if in the process he had to give up every last thing that he was?

_Instead of being a useless Nightmare King, I’ll be a useless nobody._

He couldn’t go back to that. He couldn’t go back to wandering the shadows of night scavenging for fear while other spirits enjoyed their power and purpose and happily pretended he wasn’t there. If he wasn’t the Nightmare King, how could he ever bear to face Lilly, to look her in the eye and tell her that he could do right by her? He’d only be telling her lies, and it was impossible for him to lie to her.

He told Lilly this. He explained everything to her as clearly as he could, but even to his own ears the explanation sounded very much like an excuse.

_And a pathetic one at that._

He felt absolutely wretched by the time he was done. He was glad he was holding her as he was, because he couldn’t have borne to look at her in case he spotted anger or hurt or betrayal in those perfect green eyes. She listened without saying a word until he was finished, and not once did she stop holding him or touching his hair. When he finally fell silent once more, Pitch felt her arms slip down to his waist, settling around him as her fingers clasped loosely behind his back.

“Did Moon say something to you?” she asked softly, nuzzling into the shoulder of his robes.

“What do you mean?” he asked hesitantly.

“If he’d told you what he wanted and had left it at that, I could see you being angry or indignant more than anything…but you’re not either of those things.”

She squeezed him gently then leaned back a little so she could look at him. Pitch refused to meet her gaze, so Lilly released her hold on him to frame his face with her hands, gently but firmly raising his head so that he was forced to look at her. When he reluctantly opened his eyes, he was both shocked and enormously relieved to see that her expression was completely free of anger and hurt. Her beautiful green eyes were filled with worry instead, her only concern for him and him alone.

_Why is she so good to me?_

“What did he say to you, Pitch?”

He swallowed thickly before answering. “He said…that if I loved you then the choice should be obvious.”

Lilly immediately went rigid. The worry faded from her eyes as they darkened with rage, and out of the corner of his eye, Pitch saw the white fire atop her staff flare up in response to her anger.

“Don’t you dare believe that, Pitch,” she growled. Her hands pressed into his face, and she stared at him with such intensity he was left shaken by it. “Don’t you _dare_ think that this decision is about how much you love me! Moon has no right to say something like that, he doesn’t know a damn thing!”

“But I—”

“Do you remember this?” She released his face so she could roughly shove her left sleeves up her arm, baring to his sight the dark symbols he’d etched onto her body many, many years ago. Then she clasped his wrist and brought his hand to her skin, letting him touch those marks, his vows to her. “ _This_ is how much you love me!” she said fiercely. “Don’t you ever let Moon or anyone else undermine your faith in that!”

His breath caught painfully in his chest. Pitch stroked her arm tenderly, and a little desperately, scarcely daring to believe it.

“You’re not angry with me?” he whispered in disbelief.

“Of course not! You may not have been created that way, but being the Nightmare King is still a part of who you are. Hell, you’ve held that position for centuries longer than you’ve known me! Of course you’d be desperate to keep it, especially when it means so much to you. If Moon-man cannot see that, then he’s a damn fool!”

Relief immediately washed over him, easing much of the pain and anxiety he’d endured since his meeting with Moon. _Even now she trusts me. Even now she believes in me and understands me. Why was I so stupid as to doubt that?_

Closing his eyes, Pitch pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you,” he breathed, clutching at her naked arm and stroking her soft skin with his thumb. “I do.”

“I know you do,” Lilly assured him. “That so-called friend of yours is just trying to take advantage of your current instability. He knows you’ve got too many things on your mind right now, and he’s using that to play with your insecurities.” She ground her teeth against Moon’s shameless audacity, but pressed relentlessly on. “You need to believe in yourself, Pitch. You have this doubt in your mind that you’re not doing right by me, and it’s eating away at you, and that’s what Moon-man is feeding off of. You have to remember that I’ve already seen the very worst in you. Long before we formed our bond you bared your darkest self to me, and I willingly accepted it. After everything I’ve been through in my existence, believe me when I say that if I’d thought for even a moment that you weren’t worthy of me I wouldn’t have hesitated to walk away. But I didn’t and I won’t, because even at your worst you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me. You’ve given me happiness and love, acceptance and comfort. You’ve given me a home and even a new life.” Her fingers brushed briefly, almost absently, across her stomach. “You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, and more, so don’t think for even a second that you’re failing me. Not even in this, Pitch. No matter what Moon says, you’re not hurting or betraying me at all by feeling conflicted. As much as I love you and want you to be happy, if someone told me I had to relinquish my place as a flora spirit in order to be with you, it wouldn’t be an easy thing to do. It’s a part of me, of my deepest self, just as being the Nightmare King is a significant part of your identity. Such a thing isn’t easy to walk away from, no matter how desperately we want to do right by each other or how obvious the decision may seem to outsiders.”

Lilly reached up to frame his face with her hands again, and he trembled under the tenderness of that light touch.

“What should I do?” he whispered, the words sounding strangely choked as if his throat wasn’t working properly.

“I can’t make that decision for you, Pitch,” she told him sadly, and he somehow instinctively knew that she was sad because she wanted to help him but couldn’t. Not this time. “Just know that no matter what you choose I will stand by your side. I won’t be disappointed.”

“Even if you’re damned to be destroyed because of my selfishness?” he asked rhetorically, but she answered him anyway.

“We had already decided before this that if Moon-man’s demands were too much, we’d take the risk of handling the fallout on our own. I’m not going to go back on that just because this is what he wants from you. I’m no insincere woman.”

She stroked the pads of her thumbs across his cheeks, soothing him with those feather-light caresses. “This is about what _you_ need and what _you_ want, and because of that I will wholeheartedly agree with whichever choice you make. You aren’t being selfish by keeping something you need any more than you are being weak by giving something up in exchange for help. That’s why I’m truly all right with whatever choice you make in this.”

She studied his face for a moment, during which she seemed to detect his lingering indecision. “If you can’t give Moon an answer,” she offered slowly, choosing her words carefully, “then answer this first: Do you _need_ to be the Nightmare King?”

He thought hard about it, and she gave him time to consider without bothering him with words or pointed expressions. When everything was cut down to its barest bones, what exactly did he, Pitch Black, truly needed in and from this world?

As a spirit, he needed fear and shadow, for his existence was built upon the presence of those two things and without them he would simply cease to be. He could neither be denied them nor give them up without suffering dire consequences, so his need for them was both obvious and absolute.

His needs as a man were slightly different, but to his own mind they bore just as much importance. Pitch needed Lilly. His very heart was bound to hers, and no matter how many times he doubted his own ability to please or care for her, nothing in this world would ever convince him to leave her. If a night were to ever come when he awoke and found her gone from his existence, his will would shatter and take his sanity with it. That she now carried his child made his feelings for her burn hotter and stronger than ever before, and he supposed that meant he needed the baby, too. Irrespective of any reservations he still held over the matter, Pitch couldn’t imagine giving that child up for anything, not even himself. It was strange how fiercely protective he already was of that child, but it was a part of him and a part of his Lilly, and that alone was reason enough to keep it safe no matter the cost.

As for being the Nightmare King, however…Pitch had thought he needed it—had in fact believed with his whole being that he needed it—but now that he thought about it, he realized he simply couldn’t justify keeping it the same way he could everything else. It wasn’t something he required to exist, like fear and shadow, and it wasn’t something he couldn’t afford to give up, like Lilly or their child. He desperately wanted to keep the title, and would absolutely _hate_ to give it up, but when compared to everything else Pitch realized it just wasn’t on the same level.

“No.”

The word spoken so quietly, it was barely audible. It took a great deal of effort to get that single syllable out of his mouth, for even now Pitch was fighting against the dawning awareness that he didn’t _need_ to be the Nightmare King, he _wanted_ to be the Nightmare King. Rather than lightening his burden, that newfound understanding only made him feel worse for wanting to cling to the role even though Lilly’s safety hung in the balance.

“I don’t want to lose it,” he whispered to her, “but I don’t want to lose you either. I _can’t_ lose you! I need you to be safe…both of you…”

“Then you know what to tell Moon,” she responded quietly.

“I know, but…” He reached up to bury his fingers in her hair, clutching the fire-red strands tightly as he pulled her closer. His confliction was written all over his face, and he could hear it in his own choked voice. “…but I still don’t want to stop! I don’t want to stop being the Nightmare King, Lilly! I don’t!”

The memory of his recent conversation with Moon rushed back to him, sending his already unsettled thoughts into greater disarray:

_“Why do you clutch to it so tightly, Pitch? If the title of Nightmare King serves no purpose other than to make spirits loathe you and become your enemies, what’s the point in keeping it?”_

_“Is that what you want?” Pitch let out sharp bark of laughter. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised! All you’ve ever wanted is for me to stop being the Nightmare King!”_

_“When I made you a spirit, Pitch, your purpose was to manage humanity’s fear, not exacerbate it! Being the spirit of fear and shadow has never required becoming something as base as a Nightmare King or even a Boogeyman, so why have you made it so?”_

_“Nearly every spirit in existence possesses a title, Moon, it’s not as if I’m the only one! Those five idiots have been designated as Guardians, that damned Sun Woman is worshiped like a queen and sits a throne…hell, even those naiads you hoard are the ‘miracle workers’ of the spirit world! Why is it that everyone else gets to have purpose and importance while those very things are denied me?! Without the name Boogeyman, without the role of Nightmare King, my being the spirit of fear holds no meaning! I’ll go back to being weak and useless and nibbling away at the scraps of humanity you lot don’t dare to touch! You cannot deny it, Moon!” he snarled when the older spirit opened his mouth. “I know firsthand just how hypocritical you are! You shower other spirits with exclusive rights and designations, openly celebrating their efforts and tenacity whenever they gain power or belief, but every single time I try to obtain those very same things for myself I’m beaten and berated and told I cannot have them!”_

_He drew a long, shuddering breath, a little surprised that Moon had managed to draw such emotion out of him. Baring his teeth to cover the shame of losing himself like that in front of his enemy, Pitch continued more quietly but just as fiercely._

_“When I had nothing, nobody ever bothered to care for me. You pretended to be my friend because you felt sorry for me, but I never wanted pity! I just wanted what the rest of you had already! There’s no honor, no dignity in my position unless I forcibly take it, and taken it I have! What else was I to do?! Both before and after the Dark Ages, the only times anyone ever bothered to spare me a thought was when they wished to mock me. First it was about how weak and pathetic I was, then it became about my being thrown down so mercilessly by your wretched Guardians! Lilly…” His breath hitched in his chest, causing him to choke on her name, but he recovered quickly. “Lilly’s the only one who’s ever taken me exactly as I am, accepting_ all _of me and not just the parts deemed worthy of others’ attention. You say that you are willing to accept me, Moon, but there’s always been stipulations attached to that assurance. You’re only willing to accept me if I do things your way, effectively smothering every last thing that I am. That’s why you were so against my becoming the Nightmare King in the first place, and that’s why you’re_ still _trying to force me to give it up, even after all this time!”_

_“I want you to give it up because it’s brought you nothing but trouble,” Moon countered quietly. Pitch couldn’t quite identify the expression on that goateed face. Was it sadness? Understanding? Remorse? He honestly didn’t know. “Look at what’s happened, Pitch. Look at what’s happened to you and to Lilliana thanks to your reputation and tell me that the same would have transpired had you never become the Nightmare King.”_

_As much as Pitch wanted to refute what Moon was saying, he couldn’t because he knew his old friend was right. Were it not for his past actions and sinister reputation, nearly every bad thing that had happened to him and Lilly in recent weeks simply wouldn’t have occurred. Forget fighting with the Guardians and her getting kidnapped by them—those five idiots probably wouldn’t have even existed had Pitch not acted the way he did during the Dark Ages. And even if Moon_ had _come up with some other ridiculous reason to create them, at least they wouldn’t have been Pitch’s enemies, haunting his every step with their laughter and light. Even the present mess with the Sun Woman could be traced back to his dark past. She’d disliked Pitch long before he’d ever taken up the role of Nightmare King, but she hadn’t openly professed her loathing of him or actively hunted him until after the Dark Ages had commenced. Faced with such evidence, it was fairly safe to assume that if Pitch had been nothing more than the spirit of fear and shadow when he’d bonded with Lilly, her mother still would’ve been angry but certainly wouldn’t have reacted the way she had. She never would’ve made such a blatant attempt on his existence had he not handed her the perfect excuse to do so._

_Unable to counter Moon’s point, Pitch repeated weakly, “What else was I to do? I just wanted to be treated with respect. Nobody would give it to me, so what else was I to do?”_

Standing before Lilly now, Pitch suddenly realized that it wouldn’t make one bit of difference if he remained as the Nightmare King or not. He’d assumed the role in the hope of gaining respect and recognition, but humans still didn’t believe in him and spirits hated and belittled him more now than they ever had before. What difference would it make if he gave it up, then? If all the power and influence he’d wielded during the Dark Ages hadn’t been enough to sway others to his side, then there really wasn’t anything else he could do, was there?

He was doomed to be insignificant forever…Moon had simply found a way to force Pitch to finally admit it.

“Oh, Pitch…”

It wasn’t until Lilly said those words and starting wiping at his face that the former Nightmare King realized he was crying. He tried to hide his face from her, deeply ashamed and humiliated at having her see him like this, but she refused to let him turn away. Instead she pulled him closer, letting him lean against her as he wept for the very first time.

She whispered to him, “You will always be my Nightmare King, the one who took away my shadows and accepted my darkness. You will always be my love, my bond, my better half. The one who finally gave my existence meaning, the one I fear to lose when nothing else in the world has ever shaken me. Even if you no longer have a throne, I will continue to share your life, your home, and your bed. Even if you are nothing more than Pitch Black, you will be _my_ Pitch Black, and I won’t ever stop loving you.”

It felt as if every ounce of her being was contained within those words. Never had she said anything with more conviction, except maybe her vows to him, and Pitch was left stunned and trembling by the power she possessed with her voice alone.

If no one else was proud of him or respected him, Lilly was and Lilly did, and hers was the only opinion that mattered, wasn’t it?

He clung to her, his tears drying on his face and on her shoulder as she told him quietly, “Maybe this child’s inception wasn’t untimely after all. Maybe some greater magic out there knew this was coming and realized you would need something to set your mind and efforts to once you were no longer the Nightmare King.”

“Maybe,” he agreed just as softly. It was a nice thought: the child being a gift they could both treasure and happily anticipate instead of being some accident Moon had warped into another tool to be used in his relentless quest to drive his old friend and enemy into the ground.

Feeling a little more composed, Pitch straightened up. He and Lilly stared into each other’s eyes for a long while, silently appreciating the familiar comfort of each other’s presence and love. Then Pitch was struck rather unexpectedly by a strange and unfamiliar sensation, like a gentle but obvious pressure being exerted onto his brain. He gasped. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but he was left with no doubt as to what it was.

“Did you…?”

“I did.” Lilly sounded a little awed. “It’s already this strong…” Then she grinned at him. “I think it’s voiced its opinion on the matter.”

“Hmmm,” he agreed and even managed a small smile of his own. “It’s going to give those Guardians hell, I can already tell.”

“Us too, don’t forget. We’re the ones stuck raising it, you know.”

Pitch started to groan when a familiar giggling filled his ears. It seemed their child already had wicked things planned for them, and in spite of everything the former Nightmare King couldn’t help but smirk at the knowledge that this child was going to be an absolute terror. 

_We’ll get along splendidly, then, won’t we?_

Noting the look on his face, Lilly said with some resignation, “It’s going to be hell living with the two of you.”

His grin widened. “You know you’ll love it.”

“Shut up. If it wasn’t for me none of this would’ve ever happened, so you’re welcome.”

Pitch nearly laughed at the excessive haughtiness in her voice. She was practically preening, as if she was exceedingly proud of the fact that her relentless stalking of him was what had ultimately brought the two of them together. Yet again he was left shocked and awed by just how deeply she could affect him. Mere moments ago he had been broken and crying before her, but now he was smiling and teasing her and getting teased in turn.

 _This is what I always wanted,_ he thought as he stroked her left arm tenderly with the backs of his fingers. _This warmth…this acceptance…family…_

He didn’t need to be Nightmare King to be happy. It would still hurt tremendously to relinquish something he’d fought so hard to earn and had struggled for so many centuries to keep, but he realized now that he didn’t need the role as he once did. Before the Dark Ages he’d been alone, rejected, and absolutely miserable. The power he’d gathered and the terror he’d wrought had brought him some semblance of contentment, but it had been fleeting, for rather than embracing the new, all-powerful Pitch Black, the spirit world instead came to detest him. Overcome with pain and fury, he’d used his newfound strength to push back against everyone and everything that had ever scorned or spurned him, but such reaction had only left him more dejected and isolated than ever before. Then the Guardians had come into the picture, and Pitch had been left with nothing but empty, crumbling ruins and a fading memory of what it was like to have humans believe in him.

Yet even then he’d stubbornly refused to stop calling himself Boogeyman and Nightmare King. Whether it had been out of desperation or determination, he couldn’t really say, but he’d endured the passing nights by clinging to the idea that next time he would succeed in obtaining everything he’d ever wanted. That if he gave up he’d always be alone, so giving up simply wasn’t an option no matter how pathetic and weak he became.

But things were different now. Pitch wasn’t alone anymore, and as difficult as the past few weeks had been, he certainly wasn’t miserable. He had Lilly, and soon enough they would have their child. He may not have power or prestige, and from the looks of things he probably wouldn’t ever have them, but what little he _did_ have made those things look pathetic and meaningless in comparison. As much as he would always hate and regret having to relinquish being the Nightmare King, Pitch realized he much preferred having Lilly in his arms than sitting alone on a cold, dark throne surrounded by terrified screams wondering why it was he was still so deeply unhappy.

“It will definitely take some getting used to,” Lilly said to him, “but I think everything will work out all right for us.”

“As long as you never leave me,” Pitch murmured, but instead of being insulted by the comment his Lilly actually smirked.

“As if you could ever get rid of me.”

* * *

Early the following morning, Pitch and Lilly met with Moon and his five pets. It was the first time Pitch had seen any of the Guardians except Frost since they’d entered his lair and stolen Lilly away, and even now he could scarcely stand to look at them. Just thinking about events of that morning filled the former Nightmare King with unbridled rage, but he pushed it down fiercely; he knew that losing himself in front of these spirits would do nothing to help their situation and everything possible to ruin it.

 _This is for Lilly,_ he reminded himself, squeezing her hand and feeling a familiar rush of reassurance when she squeezed back. _This is to keep her safe, as I wanted, and to make things better between all of us, as she wanted._

“Have you made your decision?” Moon asked without preamble.

Lilly answered, “Yes,” in a voice as clear and strong as a bell’s toll on a silent night. She and Pitch had already agreed that she’d be the one to speak, for she was far more capable at maintaining her composure than he was and they both knew that Moon wasn’t going to like what they had to say.

Meeting the moon spirit’s silver gaze squarely, Pitch’s brave, beautiful Lilly informed their longtime enemy, “But we have some conditions of our own.”


	22. Bargaining

Moon’s goateed face pinched a little as he frowned. “Conditions?” he repeated, as if he had not heard properly.

“We are not some weak-minded fools to be plowed over by your desires, Moon,” Lilly reminded him, the words echoing powerfully in the otherwise silent room. “This is a negotiation, nothing less.”

The five Guardians didn’t move, apart from that fairy’s ever-fluttering wings, for they weren’t entirely sure what to make of the situation just yet. Their loyalty lay with Moon, and yet they appeared rather hesitant to speak in his defense when every word that left their mouth now carried the very real danger of ruining any chance their master had of adding Lilly to his ever-growing collection.

The moon spirit shifted ever so slightly. When he spoke, the words left his mouth slowly and with the utmost care. “As much as I would like to indulge you, I don’t think you are in any position to bargain right now.”

Lilly stiffened, and Pitch saw the white fire atop her staff—clutched tightly in her right hand—flare briefly, making her displeasure clear to everyone present. Although the former Nightmare King bit his tongue to keep from speaking on the matter, he, too, was angered by Moon’s efforts to stonewall them.

“We are in a position to do whatever it is that we want, Moon,” his Lilly replied hotly. “Either negotiate, or let us leave, because we refuse to just accept your demands like meek little sprites!”

“What I asked of each of you is more than fair, considering everything we’ve done for the two of you already.”

Moon glanced at his Guardians as if asking for support, but all five mouths remained stubbornly shut. The tension gathering in the room was palpable, and it both excited Pitch and left him feeling extremely uneasy.

“I think we can all agree in this,” Moon continued, turning his attention back to Lilly. “It is not as if I requested anything outrageous.”

“That is your opinion, not a statement of fact. As grateful as we are to all of you for helping us, Pitch and I have our own needs to see to. Surely you won’t deny us that, all things considered.”

The last few words were heavy with implication, and Pitch’s attention was immediately arrested by the fact that the rabbit’s flat nose had twitched ever so slightly when he heard them. Normally he wouldn’t have been bothered by such a thing, for that Pooka’s face was always flicking about in its animal-like way, but compared to how utterly still the rabbit had been up to that point (and how completely unresponsive the other four remained) that slight movement stood out to Pitch like a shadow against baking hot sidewalk. Lilly had told him the previous night that she’d confirmed Frost didn’t know anything about the baby, but that she couldn’t be certain if the others did or not. Rage and indignation now swelled within him as he realized that Moon wasn’t the only one who knew; that damned Pooka did as well.

Struggling to keep his face impassive, Pitch seethed as his golden eyes momentarily burned into emerald ones when the Pooka inadvertently met his gaze. The rabbit quickly looked away again, but not before he’d seen the fury gathering in the former Nightmare King and recognized the cause of it.

_Why don’t you stay out of our business?!_

Just as fast as the rage had struck him, though, it began to fade away again as understanding dawned on him.

 _Of course…he’s the spirit of springtime. What is it that pest is always saying—‘new beginnings and new life’, that sort of nonsense. He must sense our child’s presence, even if the others can’t yet because it’s too young._ Studying the Pooka’s face even as the rabbit carefully avoided meeting those golden eyes again, Pitch decided, _He may have even been aware of it’s existence before Moon was informed by the naiads._

That the rabbit could’ve known about his own child before he did left Pitch feeling rather irritated, but that too faded when Lilly squeezed his hand again, silently reassuring him. For whatever reason, the Guardian of Hope was keeping his mouth shut about the baby, so instead of cleaving the Pooka’s fuzzy head from his shoulders Pitch calmed himself by just picturing it in his head.

Moon was silent for a moment as he mulled over what Lilly had told him. It seemed he couldn’t come up with a compelling argument to counter her point, which wasn’t at all surprising considering she’d spoken nothing but barest truth. Pitch and Lilly weren’t just thinking of themselves anymore; they had a child to consider, and as the leader of the Guardians Moon’s duty was to see to children’s protection no matter his personal opinion regarding the child’s parents.

 _Lilly may be right,_ Pitch realized as he watched the older spirit’s guarded expression with eyes that saw far more than they should. _We still have a strong hand in this game after all._

The situation was becoming a battle of words and wills, and Pitch smothered a smirk as he watched Moon struggle to keep up with Lilly’s sharp mind and bold tongue. She may be younger than the moon spirit by far, but she was extremely intelligent, widely read, and uncannily adept at handling one of the biggest liars and manipulators the Earth had ever seen…himself. Pitch prided himself at being counted amongst the most intelligent of spirits, but he’d never been able to best Lilly, and as conniving as Moon was the former Nightmare King was positively thrilled by the knowledge that his beautiful love was more than capable of holding her own against him.

After a time, Moon finally acquiesced. With a barely-audible sigh, he waved a hand through the air and said resignedly, “Let us hear it, then.”

Lilly wasted no time. “First of all, Pitch is to be allowed to do his work without interference. It is hard enough for him to maintain existence thanks to your constant barrage of laughter and light without you instilling ridiculous regulations on him.”

Silver eyes flashed a warning. “He is _not_ to remain the Nightmare King.”

Her response was immediate. “I never said he was going to.”

Six pairs of eyes blinked with surprise. The Guardians turned in unison to stare at Pitch, who stared indifferently back at them.

“I said that he is to be allowed to conduct his duties without you lot cramming all these rules down his throat. He is going to continue to touch dreams, and he is going to keep two of his Nightmares. He won’t shape any more than that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“The temptation is simply too great. Look at what happened at Burgess.”

“One mistake after hundreds of years is hardly a sign of temptation. You’ve allowed him to touch dreams for centuries without breathing a word of discontent, so how dare you try to act as if such a thing is abhorrent to you. Besides,” she continued as Moon opened his mouth to angrily retort, “what happened in that place won’t _ever_ be repeated. I’ll personally see to it.”

Lilly turned her head to spear Pitch with a pointed glare, but he avoided her gaze by feigning interest in the high stone ceiling.

Moon pondered what she’d told him, and when it looked as if he wasn’t entirely swayed, Pitch finally spoke.

“It won’t happen again. I guarantee that.”

It was the closest thing to a true promise the former Nightmare King had ever made to anyone apart from Lilly. The Guardians all looked flabbergasted, their mouths stupidly hanging open, but Pitch didn’t care about them. His attention was fixed upon Moon, daring his old friend not to believe it.

 _I won’t ever do that again,_ he swore to himself. _Not after what it did to Lilly._

At last, Moon broke eye contact with him to look down at Sandman, who stood to his immediate left. “Are you all right with that, Sandman?”

The little man glanced up at his leader before turning to Pitch, a rather harsh expression set onto his pudgy yellow face. The two spirits stared wordlessly at each other as Sandman considered Lilly’s proposal, certainly running through his mind every last thing Pitch had ever said and done and judging whether or not the spirit of fear and shadow was worthy of leniency.

After a long, tense period of complete silence, the little man held up two fingers and shaped a couple of sand symbols over his head.

Two mares only.

Pitch nodded an agreement. He and Lilly had discussed these matters beforehand, so he already knew which mares he’d reshape.

The fingers lowered, and the Guardian of Dreams turned his attention to Lilly. A few more symbols appeared.

He is not to feed upon those you help.

“Of course not. As much as I despise the very idea of becoming a Guardian, I am not so petty as to abuse my position or allow others to take advantage. Who do you think I am?”

She tossed her red hair with an indignant flick.

“Two mares only, then,” Moon said resignedly, “and dreams are to be touched within reason, with the understanding that Lilliana’s children are not to be harmed. Failure to adhere to either of these guidelines is to forfeit your right to both privileges. Agreed?”

They all agreed, though none more reluctantly than the Pooka, who looked like he was dying to say something but for whatever reason was biting his tongue.

That issue resolved, Lilly moved on to the next.

“Obviously I’m agreeing to become a Guardian, but I want it made clear right now that I am not to be given orders by anyone. Not North, not Sandman, not even you, Moon. You can make suggestions and give all the advice you want, but ultimately I am to be free to do things my own way. I refuse to go ahead with this nonsense if it means I’m to be turned into some sort of pet that leaps at every command.”

North spoke in Moon’s stead. “I say before: We do not wish to rule you, just have you help children.”

“As long as you keep up with your duties we won’t have any complaints,” Tooth Fairy added with a smile that Pitch supposed was intended to be reassuring.

“That’s another thing,” Lilly told the fluttering fairy. “If any of you ever has a problem with me or Pitch, you are to come to us directly to discuss it. I won’t have you lot gossiping amongst yourselves or making decisions behind our backs as if our opinions don’t matter.”

“Long as he doesn’t hurt the kids or scare them more than necessary, I don’t see an issue,” Frost said, his staff resting casually against one shoulder.

Pitch could hardly believe his own ears. These Guardians were his enemies, the bane of his existence for hundreds of years, the very five who tried to destroy him mere weeks ago, and yet they were all being so… _agreeable_. It was extremely off-putting, and Pitch couldn’t help but feel increasingly wary as he watched and listened with growing suspicion.

_Either they spent awful lot of time deliberating while I was in the Pool, or there’s something devious going on here._

Being the sort of spirit he was, Pitch strongly suspected the latter to be the case. He pressed his thumb into the palm of Lilly’s hand, subtly warning her of his suspicions, which she acknowledged with the lightest stroke of one finger against his knuckles. Of course she knew; she wasn’t stupid.

“Very well,” she said in response to the Guardians’ assurances. She had one final condition to discuss, and Pitch knew that this was the most important by far. If they didn’t get the Guardians’ agreement on this then there wasn’t going to be a truce; he and Lilly would return to the depths and endure whatever consequences befell them.

She took a breath. “I want a guarantee—an absolute promise from _all_ of you—that you will stand with us should the time ever come that we need your help. You understand enough about the both of us to know that we don’t like anyone interfering in our lives, so it goes without saying that if we ever call to you for aid our situation is dire. Should such circumstances arise, you are to come to us _immediately_ , no wasting time debating the issue or deciding whether or not our cause holds merit according to _your_ ideals.”

Surprisingly, this matter didn’t cause much of a stir amongst the Guardians, either.

“We do that for every member,” the fairy assured them. “We all help each other, and assist when called. No exceptions.”

“Think of it as a perk of the job,” Frost commented, eliciting nods of agreement from the others, even the stone-faced Pooka.

Lilly didn’t utter a word on their surprising acquiescence; she wasn’t about to question their motives or reasons when she and Pitch were getting what they wanted. Instead, she kept her reply simple.

“Good.”

That should’ve been the end of it, as everything she and Pitch had discussed the previous night had already been brought up, but apparently Lilly wasn’t through.

“And finally—”

His head whipped around, golden eyes fixing upon her with open surprise. _Why is she adding things without telling me?_

The answer soon became clear.

Green eyes staring coldly into Moon’s silver ones, Lilly told the older spirit, “—I want you to apologize to Pitch.”

“Eh?” the stupid rabbit uttered as fat man North’s bushy brows drew together, the fairy pulled back a bit in surprise, and Frost exchanged glances with Sandman.

“Apologize?” Moon repeated with a puzzled frown.

“You told him that if he loved me relinquishing his position as Nightmare King would be a simple thing to do.” Her white fire burned hot as her face pulled into a furious glare. “That was a horrible, unscrupulous thing to say to him, and I will have an apology from you.”

Understanding dawned upon the moon spirit, but Pitch could detect no contrition in those silver eyes. “I meant no offense by what I said,” his old friend said quietly. “It was never my intent to insinuate that he did not love you. I only wished to help him understand the fact that his position as Nightmare King held no value compared to your relationship.”

“Whether it was your intent or not, that is the point you conveyed to him, and it was absolutely out of line,” Lilly replied stiffly. “You _will_ apologize to him, or I refuse to have anything more to do with you. I will not work with anyone who shows my husband such blatant disrespect, even if it is you Moon.”

The silence was deafening. It was clear that Moon didn’t want to apologize, but Lilly was adamant. She’d have the apology or she was done with the lot of them. Pitch had never felt more proud of her. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to ask his old friend to apologize, and he was the one who’d been wronged! That she was so greatly offended by such thoughtless words reminded Pitch of but one of the many reasons why he loved her.

A voice finally broke the silence, but it wasn’t the one any of them were expecting.

“I think you should, Manny.”

Seven pairs of distinctly colored eyes settled upon young Frost. The boy looked deeply uncomfortable telling Moon what to do, but the stubborn winter spirit pressed on regardless.

“If that’s what you said and that’s how they took it, then I think you should say sorry. Sometimes…sometimes we all make mistakes, even without meaning to.”

Frost glanced over at the Pooka, and it took Pitch a moment to comprehend the meaningful look that past between them.

_Of course. That Frost ruined Easter by getting himself lured down to my realm._

Before he could feel even the slightest bit of mirth or satisfaction at the memory of successfully ruining the stupid egg holiday, ice-colored eyes shifted to the former Nightmare King. Pitch wondered about the meaning behind that look, for the boy was clearly trying to impress one upon him, until he reconsidered Frost’s words.

_“Sometimes we all make mistakes, even without meaning to.”_

Burgess. The boy was talking about Burgess…but how could he possibly know that Pitch actually regretted doing what he did, if only because of the effects it’d had on Lilly? Did she say something to those idiots while he was unconscious? Was that why they were all being so uncharacteristically agreeable?

In the face of Frost’s rather naïve (if grudgingly accurate) reasoning, Moon relented.

“My apologies, Pitch.”

The former Nightmare King made no move to respond to or accept the hard-won apology, and the way Moon moved the conversation right along made it clear that he hadn’t expected him to do either in the first place.

“So are we in agreement, then? Lilliana becomes a Guardian, adhering to all the rules and stipulations therein, with the exception of being permitted to act according to her own will while working with children, and Pitch Black relinquishes his role as Nightmare King but keeps two of his Nightmares and the ability to touch dreams, with the understanding that he is not to interfere with or take advantage of Lilliana’s work or our leniency in either of these matters. Once Lilliana takes the oath and becomes a Guardian, she becomes a recipient of all benefits befitting the title, including our help should she or Pitch Black request it.” He looked around at the assembled spirits. “Any complaints or requested additions to these terms?”

“I have one.”

Pitch glared at the Pooka, but the stupid rabbit avoided his gaze by looking at Lilly.

“Before the shiela takes the oath, I want her to go through a trial.”

“For what?!” Pitch roared, making the other four Guardians reflexively drop into defensive stances.

“Calm down,” Lilly hissed, tugging on his hand, but Pitch wouldn’t be dissuaded. He thrust one long finger in the Pooka’s direction.

“Don’t you dare suggest that my Lilly’s done anything wrong, you damned animal, or I’ll turn you into a fucking coat!”

Undeterred by the former Nightmare King’s fury, the rabbit snapped at him, “I meant a test trial you bloody gumby, not a legal one!”

The anger fell away as quickly as it had come, leaving Pitch rather dumbfounded. He glanced at Lilly, and from the expression on her face he knew she would’ve been hitting him and calling him an idiot if only they’d been alone. He let her see the apology in his eyes, and her brows relaxed, but the damage had already been done.

“Hardly a show of reason and control,” Moon commented dryly, earning him a glare from Lilly. She opened her mouth to put him in his place, but the rabbit spoke first.

“I take no offense, Manny. It’s only to be expected, all things considered.”

The way he turned Lilly’s own words back on them left Pitch with no doubt whatsoever that Bunnymund knew about the baby, and judging by that intense emerald stare, the Guardian of Hope was taking the rather unorthodox situation very, very seriously. Regardless of the circumstances or his own personal feelings, the Pooka was placing the child’s welfare first, and in spite of everything Pitch had to admit that he was rather relieved to have at least one spirit on their side. A reluctant ally was far better than facing down a group of bitter, angry, vindictive Guardians, and he could only hope that the others reacted in a similar fashion when they inevitably learned about the child.

_At least then I won’t have to worry about these five hunting it down just because it’s mine._

To cover the awkward silence that had fallen upon the room in the wake of Pitch’s blunder, Lilly inquired of the Pooka, “And why, exactly, do you desire such a thing?”

Those piercing green eyes finally left Pitch to settle upon the flora spirit. “I trust Manny’s judgment in picking Guardians,” he said in his thick accent, “but what I don’t trust is a spirit who’s got no experience with helping kids. Once you’re one of us, you represent all of us, and an oath made can’t be taken back. I just don’t wanna end up in a situation where we’re all wishing you hadn’t agreed to this.”

Lilly shifted slightly at Pitch’s side. She didn’t like having others question her abilities, as if she was somehow incompetent, but she couldn’t deny that the rabbit had a point.

“What do you propose, then?”

“Hear what Manny has to say, find a kid in need, and help them. If you take to it, fine, if not then there’s no point in continuing with any of this.”

“And who’s to judge my success? You?”

“Trust me, sheila, the ankle biter will be more than capable of letting us know if you’re proficient or not.”

Pitch’s mouth pulled into a slight frown. What was Moon proposing Lilly do if a human brat would be rendered capable of judging her ability to help them?

It didn’t seem like a fair proposition to him at all, but the decision wasn’t up to him. Lilly was the one facing Guardianship, so she was the one who had to make the choice, just as she’d left it up to him to decide whether or not he’d remain the Nightmare King.

So he stood quietly by and let her choose.

“Fine,” she said at last. “Just name the brat, and I’ll see to it.”

The rabbit’s jaw tensed at the word “brat”, but he said nothing of it, nodding a mute acknowledgment instead.

“Is that it?” Moon questioned, and this time nobody voiced discontent. “Very well. Lilliana, I will speak with you about your designation. Alone.”

Lilly nodded, and the moon spirit left the room. She squeezed Pitch’s hand and looked deep into his eyes for a moment before following, the butt of her staff rapping sharply against the stone floor with each step. Pitch watched her go before spinning on his heel and marching off in the opposite direction, back towards their room, leaving the five Guardians to their gossip.

* * *

As soon as the former Nightmare King was gone, the Guardians huddled together.

“Who should we pick?” Tooth asked before anyone else could speak. Her wings fluttered rapidly in the air as she spoke. “It’s a very… _particular_ situation you know. It’s not like we can pick just anybody!”

“Those kids from Burgess ain’t good for this,” Bunny said. “Too close to what happened with Pitch for Starfire to be impartial.”

“Besides, none of them are facing that sort of difficulty right now,” Tooth confirmed with a brisk nod of the head.

“That doesn’t mean they can’t help,” Jack pointed out. “We can still ask if they know of anybody—maybe a kid from their school. I think it’s important that we find someone close to Pitch’s realm. Considering how weak he is at the moment, I don’t think Starfire will want to go far, so we should accommodate that.”

Sandy nodded a silent agreement. North mulled it all over with one large hand at his chin.

“Hmmm…” he mused. “Jack is right. Ask Jamie and friends, see what comes up.”

“And if nothing does?” Bunny asked.

The big man shrugged casually as if the problem wasn’t really a problem at all. “Then we find something else.”

Jack stifled a chuckle at the look on Bunny’s face, but inside he was a ball of nervous energy. He’d been stuck in Manny’s realm for a long time now, and was anxious to get out and see the world again. Have some fun, spread some ice and snow, maybe cause a bit of mischief. But far more importantly, Jack knew he was finally going to have that talk with Jamie and the other kids that he’d promised them nearly a week ago. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but it was one he couldn’t put off any longer. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask them for help without explaining everything first.


	23. As Kids See It

It took a couple of days to arrange for Jamie and the others to all get together so Jack wouldn’t have to tell the story six different times. At first Jamie suggested they all go to his house after school, but Jack talked him out of it. He didn’t want Sophie to overhear what they were discussing, as she was so young, and he also worried that her innocent exuberance would prove to be a distraction. Cupcake then suggested her place, but her parents decided against it when they found out Pippa was the only girl coming over. They liked the boys well enough, even the rambunctious twins, but even so they weren’t comfortable having four of them in their daughter’s room for any length of time. Though Cupcake grumbled about it, neither Jack nor her friends could really find fault with her parents’ decision. Some adults simply believed that it was better safe than sorry when it came to their kids, and Guardian of Fun in particular couldn’t blame them for that.

In the end, the twins somehow convinced their parents to let Monty and Jamie spend the night for a sleepover, and once the coast was clear Jack flew off to collect the girls. With the bedroom door barricaded shut in case of unexpected interruption, the six children plus one frost spirit all gathered around.

“All right,” Claude announced self-importantly. “Let’s start with the obvious—”

“Why were those fire spirits attacking you?!” Caleb interrupted, earning him a sharp jab in the ribs from his brother’s elbow. “Ow!”

“They weren’t attacking _them,_ they were attacking those other guys,” Jamie corrected before turning to Jack for clarification. “Right?”

The Guardian nodded his head. “Yeah.”

“So what kind of spirits were those other guys?” Claude asked.

“Were they winter spirits like you?” Caleb inquired, still holding his side.

“Were they sprites?”

“Elves?”

“Fairies?”

“Ghosts?!”

“Ghosts are different from spirits, idiot.”

“So what, they _could’ve_ been ghosts!”

“ _Were_ they ghosts?!” Claude asked Jack.

“Uh, no,” Jack barely managed to say before Claude smugly informed his brother, “See?”

“Well, they _could’ve_ been!” Caleb insisted, prompting his brother to roll his eyes.

“You guys!” Pippa interrupted. “Jack said he would explain!”

Cupcake gave Claude a light slap upside the back of the head in warning.

“Ow!”

Caleb sniggered, earning him a similar strike from Pippa, who was closer. “Ow! Hey!”

“Everyone, be quiet!” Cupcake ordered the group. She was wearing bright pink pajamas with a beaming unicorn on the front and matching pink slippers with fuzzy trim that was suspiciously sparkly. “Go on, Jack,” she said more calmly after the rest of the group had obediently fallen silent. Caleb was still glaring indignantly at Pippa, who was pointedly ignoring him as she focused on Jack instead.

Jack took a deep breath, let it out slowly. For the past several days he’d agonized over how much he should tell them. He knew that every detail he withheld could potentially affect their decision to help, one way or the other, and yet he didn’t want to burden them with information that they were too young to deal with let alone properly understand. He believed he had figured it out now and that the line he’d drawn was more than fair, but there was really no way to know how this conversation would go until he actually started talking to them.

So he opened his mouth and started talking.

He told them about Starfire, describing her and her duties in vivid detail so the kids would understand and believe. He explained to them that Manny had wanted her to take the oath and become a Guardian, but she’d refused. He told them about their trip to the Golden Palace to see the Sun Woman, and gave them a softened version of Manny’s story so that they would understand both why he’d thought Starfire would be perfect for the role and why the flora spirit had said no.

He left out the parts about Pitch; he didn’t want to overload them all at once, and knew that it was something they’d want to consider entirely on its own thanks to what had recently transpired between themselves and the former Nightmare King.

The kids listened with rapt attention, staring open-mouthed until the frost spirit was finished. Even the ever-bickering twins didn’t make a peep the entire time Jack spoke.

When the Guardian of Fun was finally through telling the story, Jamie let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Wow,” was all he could manage to say for a while. His eyes were enormous and filled with wonder as he processed everything he’d just learned.

“Yeah…” the twins echoed in unison.

“She sounds scary,” Pippa said softly, meaning Starfire, “but also kinda cool.”

“You know what’s scary cool?” Caleb asked with a huge grin before answering his own question. “That Sun Woman!” He whistled to himself. “ _Man_ , that lady doesn’t like to be crossed!”

In spite of the gravity of the conversation, Jack threw back his head and laughed. “You can say that again!”

“Can we meet her?” Jamie asked with sudden enthusiasm. Everyone stared at him in shock before the boy realized they’d misunderstood. “Starfire, I mean. Can we meet her? I wanna talk to her!”

“Yeah, and I wanna see that staff!” Claude said, swinging his hands through the air as if wielding Starfire’s weapon. “A staff with fire on it? Awesome!”

Caleb echoed his brother’s excitement. “And she can make animals out of plants! How cool is that?!”

“Can she make unicorns?” Cupcake asked with an expectant grin.

“Dunno,” he replied honestly. “But I don’t see why not, since she makes those mares.”

The girl beamed at the thought of seeing—and, in all likelihood, the possibility of riding—a flora unicorn.

“So she’s just gotta prove herself to you guys, right?” Jamie, ever the pragmatist, inquired of Jack, who nodded.

“Yeah.”

“So what do we have to do?”

“We’ll do whatever we can,” Pippa promised.

Monty and the twins echoed her sentiment, the former saying, “Yeah!” with a nervous laugh while the latter began arguing over who got to touch Starfire’s staff first.

“Hang on guys,” Jack said, holding up his hand before they could get carried away. “There’s something else I gotta tell you first.”

Caleb and Claude stopped their bickering. Several heads tilted to the side in confusion as the exuberant smiles wilted.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asked. “Is it something bad?”

“Did she do something wrong?” Caleb wondered.

“Is she a criminal?” his twin supposed.

“They wouldn’t want a criminal helping kids, idiot,” Caleb informed him, appearing quite pleased with finally being able to call his brother the idiot for once.

“Logan’s dad was arrested once, but he volunteers at the school all the time!”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It depends on what they did,” Monty informed them with a knowing touch to his glasses.

“Yeah, so she could still be a criminal,” Claude informed Caleb hotly.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he replied with a roll of the eyes.

“Maybe it’s different for spirits,” Cupcake offered. “Maybe she did something wrong but isn’t a criminal because their laws are different.”

“Yeah!” Caleb stuck his tongue out at his brother.

“ _Did_ she do something wrong?” Pippa asked Jack, putting an abrupt end to the twins’ pointless argument as both boys turned to stare expectantly at the frost spirit.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong, and she isn’t a criminal,” Jack assured them, shifting slightly in the place he was crouched on Claude’s nightstand. “But, well, her husband is.”

“She’s _married_?!” the twins exclaimed in unison then promptly shushed each other when they realized how loud they were being.

“Spirits can get married?” Jamie asked, appearing both shocked and enormously pleased by the news. Being such an inquisitive sort, he always loved to learn new things about the spirit world.

“Yes, spirits can get married, but it doesn’t happen often.”

“Is the Sun Woman married?” Cupcake asked.

“No.”

“He said Starfire doesn’t have a dad, dummy,” Claude informed her rudely, earning him another slap upside the head. Jack hadn’t shared the specifics regarding how Starfire had come to be born, even though North had explained it to him at the frost spirit’s urging, because he felt it was a little too private for both Starfire and her mother for the kids to know.

“People can have kids and not be married,” Cupcake reminded the boy.

“Yeah, like adoption,” Pippa commented.

“Or just not having a dad. There’s lots of ways that can happen,” Monty stated, scooching away from where the twins and Cupcake were starting a bit of a shoving match.

“Guys, stop that,” Jamie ordered the fighting trio, who immediately remembered themselves and stopped.

“So what’s her husband like?” Monty asked, eager to know in spite of the worried frown that was starting to gather on his face.

Jack heaved a long sigh.

“Uh oh,” Caleb muttered.

“That bad, huh?” Claude asked rhetorically.

“What’s he like?” Jamie wondered, echoing Monty’s earlier inquiry.

“Remember a few weeks back when you guys were all having those bad dreams?”

“Yes…” Jamie said slowly, already not liking where this was going. None of the others did, either, judging from their faces.

“Remember what happened that night?”

“A little. I’ve forgotten most of it.”

“Don’t even remember what that guy looks like,” Caleb said with a huff. “Only that he was a big jerk!”

Jack had been afraid of that. Just as kids (and even adults) sometimes woke up terrified in the middle of the night despite being unable to recall any details from the nightmare that had frightened them, in forgetting Pitch Black Jamie and his friends couldn’t remember who or what he was, only the things he had done to them. This put Jack in a bit of a spot. He couldn’t explain things to them properly without forcing them to remember and believe, but he knew that they may not _want_ to believe in Pitch again.

“Is that him?” Cupcake asked, meaning the spirit they couldn’t remember, and Jack nodded an affirmation.

“That’s her husband.”

“ _What_?!” the twins exclaimed, but this time Jamie and Pippa joined in.

“ _Seriously_?” Pippa said incredulously. “ _Him_?”

“Him.”

“Aw, man, this got super complicated so fast,” Caleb lamented.

“He’s the other one you guys saved from the fire spirits?” Jamie asked in utter disbelief.

“Yes.”

“But… _why_?!” Jamie’s face was twisted with confusion and a desperate need for answers. “That guy…that guy’s _evil_! He scared everyone with those nightmares and attacked you and the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause and—”

“Yes, Jamie, I know,” Jack interrupted before the kid passed out, for he’d said that last part all on one breath. “I know he did those things. But Jamie, you guys have to believe me when I say that he’s sorry for what he did.”

“Did he _say_ he was sorry?” Pippa asked, the words laden with doubt.

“Well, no, not exactly, but—”

“Then he’s not sorry,” the brunette said with finality. “No way.”

“I know how it looks, Pippa, but I also know that he really regrets what he did to you guys. It hurt Starfire a lot because it put both of them into an awful lot of danger, and…” Jack hesitated before deciding to tell them. “…and he was almost killed because of it.”

“Huh?” Jamie asked, his eyes widening even as Pippa’s brows drew together and the twins leaned forward with renewed interest.

“Because he attacked Burgess, Manny and the Sun Woman both found out about his and Starfire’s relationship,” Jack explained quietly. “They’d been keeping it a secret from everybody because most spirits see him the same way you guys do. They think he’s evil and undeserving of anything. Sun Woman in particular doesn’t like him, she never has, and she was furious when she learned the two of them were married. Those fire spirits we fought the other day were her servants, sent there to destroy him.”

“Woah,” Caleb whispered breathlessly.

“You mean that?” Cupcake asked just as quietly.

Monty looked like he truly couldn’t believe it. “Just because they’re married?” he said incredulously.

“Yes. And they almost succeeded. He was hurt really, really badly during that attack. He’s healed now, but Starfire was scared and deeply upset by everything that had happened. That’s how I know he won’t do anything like that ever again.”

While most of the group either looked shocked or awed or pitying, Pippa crossed her arms, stone-faced. “Sounds to me like he’s sorry he got caught more than he’s sorry that he hurt and scared us.”

“Pippa!” Jamie said in disbelief.

“Come on, Jamie, you have to agree with me,” the girl insisted. “That’s a sad story and all, but it sounds to me like he did something bad and got punished, so he’s only sorry that he had to suffer the consequences! I don’t see how I’m supposed to feel sorry for someone like that.”

“But Jack said he wouldn’t do it again,” Jamie countered.

“And you believe that?!”

“I believe Jack. If he says that guy won’t do it again, then I believe it.”

“I believe Starfire,” Cupcake put in, and everyone looked at her in surprise. Drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, the girl explained, “I know we’ve never met her, but she doesn’t sound like a bad person to me. She also sounds pretty smart. So if she’s like that and still stays with him, then there’s gotta be something there that we’re not seeing, right?”

“Besides, he’s the spirit of fear,” Monty mumbled, readjusting his glasses for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. That he remembered that much about Pitch indicated to Jack that the kids were starting to believe in the former Nightmare King again, even if they didn’t realize it yet. “What he did was wrong, yes, but wasn’t he just…you know…doing his job?”

“Really, Monty?” Pippa asked with one eyebrow raised.

Jamie wouldn’t back down. “He’s right, Pippa. We don’t know exactly what he was thinking; maybe he just got carried away. Everyone can make a mistake, even spirits.”

He glanced at Jack, who couldn’t deny what the boy had said after his unforgettable blunder on the eve of Easter.

“Yes, what he did was wrong,” Jamie went on, “and yes, he seems like a bad guy, but if Starfire is good enough to be a Guardian, and the Guardians all think she’s good enough to be one of them, then she’s definitely _not_ bad. And if someone like that sees something in him good enough to marry, then Cupcake’s right. Maybe there’s something there we’re not seeing.”

Jack was stunned speechless by what he was witnessing. He’d thought that he’d have more of a hand in this, that it would’ve taken a great deal of persuasion on his part to convince these kids that Pitch Black wasn’t evil anymore and wouldn’t bring them harm ever again. But all he’d done was lay the foundation with barest fact, and now the six of them were doing the rest entirely on their own, building up the conversation with each of their perspectives and opinions without the frost spirit having to say a word. He just crouched there on Claude’s nightstand and observed proudly as the circle of friends slowly but surely worked their way towards their own conclusion regarding the former Nightmare King.

“I dunno, Jamie,” Pippa said slowly. Her harsh opinion was beginning to waver, but she still wasn’t entirely convinced. “What if he decides being with Starfire just isn’t enough anymore? What if he decides he likes scaring people and being powerful more?”

Jamie turned to Jack. His question was short and direct. “He loves her?”

“Tremendously.”

The boy turned back to his friend. “Then he won’t change his mind.” A grin bloomed unexpectedly across his face. “Besides, if Starfire is as strong as Jack says she is then he wouldn’t dare leave her, else she’d burn him to a crisp!”

The twins cackled.

“Quickest. Divorce. Ever.” Claude said with wicked glee before satisfying Caleb’s silent request for a high-five.

Jack covered his mouth with one hand to smother the laugh that threatened to burst out at their antics. Even Pippa smiled a little, her expression finally softening.

“I suppose you’re right,” she told her friends. “So are we gonna help them, then?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said and the others nodded in agreement.

“I think it’ll really help if Starfire can work with troubled kids like that,” Monty commented. He shifted on the floor, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I hear about it a lot,” he said to the floorboards. “My parents watch a lot of news, ya know? So I’m always hearing about kids who…you know…”

“Yeah,” Claude said quietly. The entire atmosphere of the group had abruptly changed as every one of the kids now looked rather down.

 _So they’ve noticed it, too,_ Jack thought sadly, studying each of their faces in turn. _Manny’s right. Kids these days are facing more and more serious problems all the time, and in greater numbers._

Starfire’s work would be more important than ever, if only she could set aside her immense dislike for humans…and children in particular.

“So who’s she gonna work with first?” Caleb asked Jack. “You said you guys wanted to try her out, right, see how good she is? So who’s she gonna work with first?”

“That’s just it,” the frost spirit replied, dropping down from his perch on the furniture so he could sit with the kids on the floor. “We were kinda hoping you guys would know somebody.”

“Us?” Jamie asked with a confused frown.

“Starfire’s husband is recovering, remember? He doesn’t wanna go too far from here until he’s completely better, and she won’t leave him because she wants to protect him.”

“Ah.”

“But we don’t know anybody like that,” Monty pointed out. “None of _us_ are depressed or anything, right?”

They all nodded.

“What about kids at your school?” Jack inquired.

The six of them fell silent as they all thought hard about it. After a moment, Cupcake turned to Pippa.

“What about Jorge?”

“Jorge?” the boys all said in unison, and at the exact same time Jack asked, “Who?”

Pippa sighed at the chorus of interrupting voices before answering. “Jorge Casales. He just moved here and is in my class.”

“Since when?” Caleb asked, but once again poor Pippa was interrupted.

“Since, like, a month ago, idiot,” Claude informed him as if his brother were stupid. “He’s the one that’s all dark and hunched over and doesn’t talk to nobody. Moved here right after Easter.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You sure he’s not just shy?” Jack asked reasonably. “If he just moved here maybe he’s not used to everything yet.”

“We tried talking to him the other day,” Jamie said, nodding first to Monty and then Cupcake. “He was alone at lunch so we tried sitting with him, but he just got up and walked off.”

“Yeah, and when we tried again after school he tried to punch us,” Monty added.

The frost spirit frowned. “Punch you?”

“I don’t think he was angry or anything,” Jamie said quickly. “I think we just startled him.”

“Like a reflex or something?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah.”

Jack considered the implications of that.

“He doesn’t like people talking to him,” Pippa explained. “Even in class if the teacher calls on him he won’t talk to anyone. She used to send him to the principal’s office, but she was told not to do that anymore and to just let him sit there.”

His frown deepened. That didn’t sound like something a reasonable principal would ask an instructor to do. He’d hung out in more than enough schools to know.

“How come?” Caleb asked Pippa. Clearly the boy understood as Jack did that something like that just wasn’t right.

But the girl just shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” Cupcake rested her chin on her knees and looked sadly across the circle at Jack. “I overheard Mrs. O’Reilly talking about it. He’s living with the Rollins.”

“I thought somebody said he came from California,” Monty said confusedly.

“He did. But he’s staying with them now.”

Jack wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he knew whatever it was it couldn’t be good. The Rollins were an older couple who’d never had children of their own but had an excellent reputation around Burgess for working with foster kids that were considered to be “problem cases”: the ones with anger or emotional issues; the ones who beat up their foster siblings or ran away; the ones who’d gotten into trouble with drugs or alcohol in previous homes. As a retired social worker and a still-active police officer, Mrs. and Mr. Rollins, respectively, both had the experience and the patience to work with kids that others had passed off as lost causes. But they’d never had a foster from that far away before.

Either Jorge Casales had caused so many problems in his previous homes that somebody in the system believed only a couple of the Rollins’ experience could handle him, or he was escaping something truly serious back in California.

Jack didn’t want to make assumptions or judgments as he didn’t know the whole story, but if the kids thought Jorge was a decent fit for Starfire’s first foray into Guardian work, then that’s who’d she’d have.

 _I just hope it doesn’t turn into a major problem,_ he fretted, knowing that someone of Starfire’s personality would either clash horribly with Jorge or get along with him spectacularly, depending on the boy’s disposition.

_Hopefully it’s the latter and not the former._

* * *

“You do it.”

“No you do it.”

“I don’t wanna do it!”

“ _I’ll_ do it!”

Cupcake wrenched the envelope from the twins and marched down the hall. Jorge Casales was at his locker, dropping books inside to make room in his backpack for his lunchbox. She stopped beside him. Jorge was quite tall for his age, and being as short as she was Cupcake felt as if the kid towered over her as he turned to see what she wanted.

“Hi, they call me Cupcake,” she announced, her face set with grim determination.

Jorge’s dark brows pulled together but he said nothing. She noticed that he was eyeing the envelope in her hands warily.

“I’m friends with them.” She waved over to where Jamie, Pippa, Monty and the twins all stood huddled by the drinking fountain trying to look inconspicuous. Monty was all-but hidden behind Pippa, who looked the least uncomfortable of the group since Jorge was in her class so she was more used to him.

“We heard you were having a hard time adjusting to living here.” She held out the envelope for him to take. “This will help.”

The boy from California finally spoke. “What is it?”

Rather than be scared off by his brashness, Cupcake’s jaw tightened resolutely instead. He was talking to her, and there hadn’t been any attempted punches yet, so the stocky girl in the pink shirt thought things were going pretty well.

“It’s a gift. It’ll help.”

“What is it?” he repeated, even more suspicious now. Cupcake wondered why she saw a flash of something that looked very much like fear pass through those dark eyes.

“Trust me, it’ll help. Anytime you feel really lonely or down, just plant this in some soil and put it on your windowsill.”

“It’s a _plant_?”

“It’s magic.”

Jorge rolled his eyes and shut his locker with a loud bang, but Cupcake wouldn’t let him leave.

“Take it,” she insisted, thrusting the envelope into his backpack before he could zip it shut and walk away. “Remember: put it on your windowsill. Do that and she’ll come.”

“Who?”

“Starfire.”

“ _Who_?”

“Believe,” she said, staring hard into the boy’s eyes as if compelling him to do exactly as she’d instructed. “ _Believe_ , Jorge, and Starfire will come. She’ll help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Yes, you do,” Cupcake replied with calm certainty. Then she turned around and walked back to her odd group of friends, the only place outside of her family where she felt as if she truly belonged.


	24. The First Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the tags, this is where the darker/heavier stuff starts to come into play. The beginning of the chapter involves an OC planning/contemplating suicide, but he doesn't go through with it (and it isn't overly detailed).

Jorge took one final glance around the room. Everything was in place: books stacked neatly on the shelf; alarm clock on the nightstand facing just the right way; school backpack hanging by the straps across the back of the desk chair; bedspread smoothed neatly, a single folded paper lying in plain sight on the pillow. It all looked like it was supposed to, exactly how he wanted it to look, and yet nothing about it felt right for some reason.

_Why does it all look so…cold?_

Maybe it was because of what he planned to do next…maybe that was why everything looked so strange to him. Or maybe it was simply because none of these things were his. Not the room, not the books or the bed. Not even that piece of paper or the pen that had written on it belonged to him. Everything had been given to him by the Rollins.

They were nice enough people, the Rollins, and he did like Burgess more than the town his last foster family had lived in, but it just wasn’t the same as being back in his own room with his own things. He didn’t have a single thing left from his first life, his true life; everything had happened far too quickly for anything to be saved. He’d left home with nothing but the clothes he was wearing and the shoes on his feet, and though a lot of people had given him a lot of nice things over the past few months, he just couldn’t see any of it as _his_.

That was probably why he was having such a hard time adjusting to the Rollins’ place despite their every effort to make him feel welcome.

That and Jorge couldn’t stand to be around Mr. Rollins.

It wasn’t as if the man had done anything specifically to scare him…truthfully, he didn’t _have_ to do anything. Just being in the same room with him filled Jorge with incredible anxiety, for he knew that it was only a matter of time before the man dropped the nice-guy act. He knew it was coming. He knew because Fernando had been like that. Fernando had been good to him, taking him boating on the lake and teaching him to ride a bike and buying him ice cream and treating him like he treated his own kid. Jorge had liked Fernando a lot, and had thought of Carlos as his own brother.

He didn’t feel that way about either of them anymore. Those feelings had died a long time ago.

Standing in the middle of the strange room that supposedly belonged to him (even though he knew fully well that it had belonged to many, many other kids before him), Jorge trembled a little. His mind was set—but he was scared. He didn’t know if he could do it…but he was determined to do it.

Everything would be better once he did it.

He wouldn’t have to be scared anymore. He wouldn’t have to put up with this strange house and those horrid feelings that came over him whenever a man so much as looked at him. He wouldn’t feel like a burden, like someone who’d just been pushed out onto somebody else because his own family didn’t want him anymore. His family wouldn’t have to hate him…his _mother_ wouldn’t have to hate him…

That was what hurt most. Knowing his own mother hated him and called him a liar was far worse than everything Fernando and Carlos had ever done to him, and the look of pure rage burning within the eyes that had once held so much love for him was the one memory Jorge was truly desperate to escape.

_Everything will be better for everybody if I just…_

The thought faded away unfinished, and the boy clenched his fists as a toxic mixture of self-hatred and grief and fear washed through him. Out of the corner of his eye, his attention was caught by a dirty plastic cup sitting on the windowsill.

_That stupid thing…_

In the earliest hours of morning, Jorge had lain helplessly in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. His nights were constantly plagued by the fear that something terrible was going to happen to him if only he closed his eyes, and that anxiety had only become worse after moving in with the Rollins. On the few occasions he _had_ dozed off last night, terrifying memories of Fernando had crept into his head, only instead of that man’s face and voice it had been Mr. Rollins’. Jorge had woken every time to find himself curled beneath the covers, clutching a pillow over his head as if to protect himself from the hail of furious fists that were no longer there to strike at him while he slept. After the third or fourth time he’d been too scared to go back to sleep, and as he lay there in bed waiting for the alarm to go off for school he’d suddenly remembered what that weird girl in the pink shirt had told him.

_“Anytime you feel lonely or down, just plant this in some soil and put it on your windowsill.”_

He didn’t know why those words had popped into his head all of a sudden, for it had been days since that weird girl had spoken to him. School here in Burgess was a truly strange place for Jorge—he liked it because he only had lady teachers and most of the kids left him alone, but he also hated it because the halls were narrow and the kids that _did_ try to talk to him were all so…weird. Like that stocky girl with the intimidating glower who’d all-but accosted him in the dreadfully tight hallway with bizarre talk of magic. She’d left him nothing but skeptical about the nature of that so-called Starfire ( _What kind of a name was that, anyway?_ ), and for the longest time the envelope she’d forced on him had sat crumpled at the bottom of his backpack. But in the pre-dawn hours of that particular morning, as Jorge exhaustedly wondered just why the hell he even bothered to try anymore, the knowledge that he still had that envelope had suddenly and unexpectedly returned to him.

 _“_ Believe _,”_ that girl had told him. _“Believe, Jorge, and Starfire will come.”_

He couldn’t really say why he’d decided to listen to what that strange girl with the even stranger name had told him, but he’d done it. Guided by the silver moonlight filtering in through the window, Jorge had risen from bed and planted that seed into an old cup he found at the bottom of the garbage. He sat for hours afterwards staring at it, waiting for something to happen, and all day long at school he hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Words couldn’t describe the disappointment he’d felt when he rushed back that afternoon to discover that it was still nothing more than an empty cup of dirt.

 _Magic?_ He’d scoffed at himself. _How stupid does she think I am?_

Apparently stupid enough to believe it…for as dumb as it made him feel to admit it, even to himself, Jorge had actually allowed himself to hope that it _would_ turn out to be a magic seed and that some sort of mystic being named Starfire would appear to help him. Because that weird girl in the pink shirt was right: he did need help. The thoughts he was having, the things he was feeling…he knew they just weren’t right…but no matter what he did he just couldn’t stop them or make them go away.

_It was stupid to get my hopes up…_

With a defeated sigh, Jorge walked over to that plastic cup and stood staring down into the barren dirt he’d dug up from one of Mrs. Rollins’ potted plants.

“It really is stupid, isn’t it?” he said to himself in Spanish. Speaking in Spanish was as comforting as it was painful. It not only reminded him of home and all the wonderful years he’d spent there, it also reminded him of exactly where he was and all the horrid memories he’d left behind in California.

Mrs. Rollins had said that there were a few Spanish speakers here in Burgess, but if there were Jorge hadn’t met any of them. He missed speaking in Spanish. He missed speaking to his mother in Spanish.

He missed a lot of things, but the only ones who seemed to care were the ones he didn’t _want_ to care.

It was a very confusing thing to try and deal with.

Looking at the dirt, Jorge poked it with the tip of one finger. Nothing happened. He sighed again.

“Magic indeed. Like such a thing exists.”

_“Believe, Jorge, and Starfire will come.”_

“If you’re at all real,” he whispered in Spanish that was broken by unshed tears, “I really need you to help me.”

The moment those words left his mouth, something remarkable happened. The uppermost layer of soil shifted just the tiniest bit, and out of that dirty old cup sprouted the tiniest little flower Jorge had ever seen. It had a golden center and dark red petals, like fire, and the boy stared at it open-mouthed as those miniature petals unfurled and turned towards the window.

 _It really is magic,_ he thought, stunned by what he had just witnessed. _So does that mean…?!_

He looked around, wondering if Starfire was going to appear. When nothing happened, he looked back down at the little flower. He poked it. Nothing happened. He poked it again.

A tiny green tendril sprouted from the soil and waved at Jorge as if shooing him off. He leapt back with a stifled cry.

“Magic,” he gasped, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. Such was the depth of his shock, he didn’t even notice or care that he’d messed up the covers he’d meticulously smoothed out earlier.

_Does this mean Starfire really will help me?!_

Relief flooded through him, and he could barely contain his excitement as he sat there and waited.

And waited.

And waited…

His excitement began to wane as the minutes continued to tick by and still no Starfire appeared.

 _Maybe it’s just a trick,_ he thought miserably. _Not magic at all, just some stupid trick to try and tease me._

That strange girl and her friends were probably laughing at him right now, talking about how stupid he was for believing them.

_“Believe…”_

Jorge drew a breath and shut his eyes tight.

 _I believe,_ he thought as hard as he could. _I believe that Starfire will come. I believe that Starfire will help me. I believe…I_ believe…

He opened his eyes again…and nearly screamed.

“Well, it’s about damn time you saw me! I’ve been sitting here for over an hour!”

Jorge gaped at the woman that was now sitting on the windowsill. She had brown skin and red hair and a staff with what was unmistakably white fire burning at its top. One bare foot rested on the wooden sill near the cup with the flower in it. The other dangled towards the floor as she glared at him.

He spluttered nonsensically. “Are—are you a g-gho—?!”

The strange woman snorted. “I’m no more a ghost than you are a girl from Iceland!”

“Then—then how did you—?”

“How’d you think I got in here?” she asked in her abrupt, no-nonsense tone.

“Magic?” he asked hesitantly.

She waved her hand at him. “There, you see? Was that so hard?”

“I… You see I…I just… _¡Ay dios!_ ”

Starfire rolled her eyes. “Please. Enough with the theatrics, we’ve already wasted enough time.”

Trying hard just to keep breathing, Jorge shut his mouth and nodded his head obediently.

“Hmmm…” Starfire looked around the room, and he saw those startling green eyes linger on the note he’d left on his pillow. His face flushed instantly.

“You see I… That thing is just…”

“Stop spluttering. I know what you were planning to do tonight.”

He hung his head in shame.

“Don’t do that.”

He looked up. “Do what?”

“Don’t act all meek and miserable. You haven’t done anything wrong, so stop acting like you’re going to get punished.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that,” she said harshly, causing Jorge to wince. “Do you have any idea how much courage it takes to follow through with something like that?”

He blinked in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that at all. “Huh?”

“Especially someone your age,” she continued, ignoring his confusion. Her brows drew together as she studied him. “You’re what, eleven?”

“Nine.”

“Tall for your age.”

“I know.”

He didn’t like people commenting about his height. Fernando especially had hated how big he was.

_“If you’re such a big man, why don’t do stand up and show me how big of a man you really are?! Come on! Come on and show me, you little shit! Show me how big you think you are!”_

Jorge jerked out the unexpected recollection when he realized Starfire was still looking at him.

“What?” he squeaked, still not entirely sure what it was this strange magic woman wanted.

She blew a long breath between her lips, and just like that the intensity that had been in her body and her voice faded considerably. She relaxed against the window. “Anyway, let’s get this thing started. Officially.” She held out her hand. “I am Lilliana Starfire.” There was no mistaking the air of haughtiness in her tone when she said her name, as if she were somebody important. “You are to call me nothing but Starfire until I permit you to do otherwise. Understood?”

Jorge nodded as he inched across the room and gingerly took her hand. She shook it firmly. He had to admit, he was surprised to discover that she was quite solid.

“What do I call you?” she asked him.

“Jorge.”

“All right, Jorge.” She let go of his hand. Then, spotting the look on his face, she asked resignedly, “What is it?”

“Umm…” He didn’t know if she’d get offended by his asking, but curiosity got the better of him. So in direct spite of the fear that settled into his stomach like a drop of burning acid, he asked her, “What’s the difference between a spirit and a ghost?”

She heaved a long sigh.

“Sorry…”

“Stop apologizing. Seriously, we’re going to have to work on that.”

“Sorry…”

She sighed again. “Listen boy,” she said slowly. “The spirit world is a very vast, complex place; there are far too many things for me to possibly explain in one night. So let me say right now that while I’ll explain as much as I can to you, it’ll have to happen over a period of time. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, but don’t badger me or ask the same ones fifteen times. I’ll let you know things as you need to know them, and if I tell you it’s none of your business it is because, as a human, it is none of your business. Fair?”

He nodded.

“Good.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Jorge asked hesitantly, “Can…can I ask you something?”

“Yeesss….”

She dragged out the word as if wondering why he was asking questions already. Jorge fought the urge to step a safe distance away from her, instead swallowing a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

“Do you…I mean…um…”

It was so embarrassing stumbling over his words like that, but Starfire sat there quietly until he finally got the right ones out.

“How many languages do you speak?”

She smirked.

“Boy, I know more than eighty languages, many of which went extinct long before your ancestors were born.”

He gaped at her. “How old _are_ you?”

“Far older than you think I am. Remember: I’m a spirit, not a human being.”

Too dumbstruck by that information to possibly come up with a response, Jorge nodded mutely.

“So what is it that you really wanted to ask me?”

Startled by her uncanny perception, the boy stumbled awkwardly through his question. “Is it okay if…if we…you know…speak in Spanish?”

Without hesitation, Starfire replied in flawless Spanish: “If that is what you want, then I don’t have a problem with it.”

A very strange feeling washed over Jorge Casales. He was still rather confused by the whole situation, and was both awestruck and a bit scared of this intimidating Starfire spirit, but even so the boy from California found himself breaking into a broad smile.

“Great!” he replied in his native tongue. “Thank you _so_ much!”

* * *

In spite of the boy’s initial excitement, Lilliana soon discovered that he was actually an extremely wary individual. It was clear that he appreciated her company and found relief in being able to converse in Spanish again, but apart from brief greetings and farewells the Jorge boy didn’t have much to say. While she found his subdued nature to be a welcomed reprieve from the loud-mouthed, gullible idiots that she often perceived human children to be, she couldn’t deny that this behavior was remarkably strange for someone his age. Particularly concerning—and quite telling—was his obvious aversion to men. Lilliana had picked up on that almost immediately, for the boy tread with incredible wariness around the Rollins man despite having no perceptible reason to fear him. The flora spirit had watched their interactions closely, studying their rare (and remarkably brief) conversations with a sharp eye in the hope of understanding Jorge’s anxiety. But far from being an intimidating, loud-mouthed alpha that ruled the lad with an iron fist, Lilliana could tell that the Rollins man was actually going out of his way to avoid coming too close to Jorge, as if he, too, recognized and understood the boy’s ingrained fear of adult males.

 _It must be related to something that happened to him back in California,_ she decided eventually. _Something that man knows about and is trying his best to be mindful of._

Frost had told her a little about this Jorge boy, but she’d refused to listen to most of it so as to avoid accusations of bias. She much preferred to gather information herself, anyway, and for the first few days that was precisely what she did: she watched and listened as her charge went about his life, doing nothing to interfere and, for the most part, keeping entirely to herself except to respond to the boy’s occasional comments or questions. She came and went entirely as she pleased, for she was firm in her belief that if she kept to any sort of schedule or routine the boy would become dependent upon her, which was the absolute last thing she wanted or he needed. The kid was already nine; despite her obvious lack of experience with human children, Lilliana knew it was only a matter of a few short years before he matured and forgot about her. If he was reliant upon her when that time inevitably came, his mental state would quickly deteriorate, dragging him right back down to where he started and rendering her every effort a complete waste of time.

Besides, if she jumped to his every beck and call she’d be placing her own needs and Pitch’s behind those of a mere human, and regardless of what the Guardians thought or wanted Lilliana flatly refused to do that. Sacrificing her personal well-being for the sake of another was not only counterproductive, it would make the entire process even harder for her and Pitch to tolerate.

Especially Pitch.

While the flora spirit considered the work required of her to be more of a time-consuming inconvenience than anything else, the former Nightmare King bore great resentment over having to share her time and attention with the Guardians and, even worse, mere human brats. Coupled with his struggle to regain power thanks to his inability to spread fear uninhibited and the incredible insult of having his throne and globe taken away, Pitch had been uncharacteristically moody as of late. Lilliana hated seeing the pain and sadness and irritation in his eyes whenever she took her leave, but she also understood that they were emotions he would have to come to terms with on his own. He must’ve understood it, too, because apart from the expected grumblings Pitch withheld his complaints and never demanded that she stay. No matter how much he detested her new role, he was truly doing his best to accept it and to be supportive of her. She knew because whenever she returned to him after being with Jorge (whether it was in daylight when he slept or in darkness while he restlessly paced the silent halls of their home), the former Nightmare King would simply take her hand in a silent gesture of love and welcome, making no comment whatsoever about her absence.

 _It may take weeks or months,_ she knew, _but sometime soon he will grow used to this new arrangement and face each night with the same exuberance I always expect from him._

With this understanding planted firmly in her mind, Lilliana kept her focus primarily on her human ward. While she was happy to take her time with him as it effectively put off her having to take the Guardian’s oath, after two weeks of nearly complete silence between them she decided to start getting more direct with the boy.

 _Even patience has limits before it becomes impractical._

“You don’t like men, do you?”

It was late in the evening when she asked this rather pointed question. He was sitting at his desk solving math problems, and upon hearing those words his grip on the pencil noticeably tightened. He didn’t answer, and after a while she said quietly, “You don’t have to talk about it now. Whenever you want to is fine. Or never, if that is what you wish.”

He finally spoke, using Spanish as they always did whenever they were together. “But…but you won’t be able to help me…if I don’t talk about it…”

She frowned. _That sounds like something a psychiatrist or a social worker would tell him to get him to talk._

“Is that what they told you?”

His head bowed even lower, dark bangs nearly touching the polished desktop. His nod was almost imperceptible.

“Whatever the humans tell you, kid, is of absolutely no consequence when we are together. I’m not telling you to ignore what they say, as some of them might just be able to help you in their own way, but don’t let their words influence how you spend your time with me. Understand? I won’t force you to talk about anything and I won’t force you to answer any of my questions. You and you alone know what it is you’re comfortable discussing and with whom. There are things I never told anyone for centuries and centuries, things only my husband knows about.”

He looked at her directly for the first time in days, his eyes wide with obvious surprise. “You’re married?”

“Why is that so shocking to you?”

“I just…never pictured you as the wife type…is all.”

Lilliana startled him with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not what most of you humans would consider a ‘typical wife’. I don’t entertain company, I don’t ‘keep house’, and I sure as hell don’t wait on my husband.”

Her expression became pensive. “It’s hard to describe our relationship, really,” she admitted after a moment. “Just that it’s the furthest from ‘typical’ as you can probably imagine, and that’s not just because you’re a human.”

“So he’s a spirit too?” the boy asked quietly. He was always so hesitant whenever he asked questions, as if he was afraid he’d upset her somehow. Even now, after spending all this time in her company, she noticed that he couldn’t quite stop himself from pulling away slightly as if anticipating a violent reaction.

“Of course.”

“What’s he like?”

Lilliana thought about it. She didn’t mind talking about Pitch to this boy as long as he didn’t ask about anything overtly personal, but she wasn’t completely sure if she ought to delve into too much detail lest he believe and spot Pitch on accident one night. That would surely piss the Guardians off, as they’d undoubtedly assume that she’d done it on purpose in direct violation of the rule that the former Nightmare King wasn’t to interfere with her work.

_Best keep it vague, then._

“He’s tall,” she said at last, “and he has a temper, but he can also be remarkably gentle. He’s never hurt me. Not even once.”

“How long have you been together?”

“A long time, kid. A very long time.”

“Do you have kids?”

“Not yet.”

As she’d expected, the boy didn’t take that as she truly meant it and just assumed she was planning on having children sometime in the future. Studying his face, though, she still saw questions burning behind those dark eyes. She encouraged him to speak them by posing one of her own.

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, but after a long silence he changed his mind. “If you…I mean…”

He stumbled over his question, but Lilliana was patient and let him get it out.

“If you…say…had a kid…and he—your husband…you know…didn’t like it…would you st-stay…with him?”

It was a question that spoke volumes, especially with how much effort it had taken for him to get it out, as if the mere thought of such a thing was incredibly painful for him.

_Hmmm…_

Lilliana hated talking about personal matters—so much so that it had taken decades for her to finally open up to Pitch even a little—but she likewise understood that this was a critical moment in her and Jorge’s relationship. Her response to his question would either seal his trust in her or sever it completely, and as much as she wanted to avoid sharing the truth with this human she instinctively knew that she couldn’t do that. Though she would never admit it to anyone (and scarcely dared to believe it herself), Lilliana Starfire recognized a great deal of her younger self within this boy. She saw in him a child who was surrounded by others, but felt alone; who was showered with material things, but considered such possessions meaningless because they’d been given out of obligation rather than a true desire for his happiness; who was placated with gentle words when what he truly wanted was a life that wasn’t devoid of genuine affection. When she looked into those disheartened dark eyes, it was like seeing an altered reflection of her own self, and she didn’t like that at all. It not only made her extremely uncomfortable, it also made her feel deeply empathetic towards this child, this human, this _brat_ that she’d assured herself she’d never _ever_ feel sorry for.

And it was due to those unexpected (and exceedingly bothersome) emotions that she couldn’t bring herself to lie or manipulate the truth before this boy, not even for the sake of her own privacy and pride. She simply couldn’t to do that to him after spending so many long, lonely centuries fighting against that very indignity within the spirit world.

 _So this is what you meant…_ Lilliana thought, reflecting on everything Moon-man had told her about why he’d chosen her to become a Guardian. She’d scoffed at him at the time, thinking human children to be too naïve with their heads way up in the clouds to ever wind up in a situation even _remotely_ similar to her own. But it seemed her total avoidance of the human world had actually served to some detriment on that front. While she’d been content with her assumption that the brats were all happily feeding off of fat man’s wonder and the yellow man’s dreams without a genuine care in the world, she’d been wholly ignorant of just how desperate some of them like Jorge were becoming.

_Desperate enough that he was willing to accept the word of some ridiculous girl named Cupcake about a magic plant._

Though she skillfully maintained her perfectly impassive expression, Lilliana felt as if she’d swallowed a stone as the gravity of the task set before her by Moon truly settled in. This wasn’t a simple matter of proving herself to the Guardians for the sake of her and Pitch’s protection anymore. She literally had the lives of these incredibly fragile children in her hands.

_Why would you trust me with something like this? I’ve done nothing but hate and belittle you, so why would you ever entrust your children to me?_

She didn’t bother to ask those questions aloud, because even if Moon-man was listening (and she was certain that he was, that meddlesome busybody) she knew he wouldn’t answer. He’d pull the same silent treatment on her as he’d done Frost and virtually everyone else he ever took an interest in.

Swallowing a sigh, she told Jorge quietly, “You may not believe it, but he and I actually spoke of this rather recently. He doesn’t like children, you see, and due to his nature as a spirit children do not like him.”

“What kind of spirit is he?”

She stared hard into those eyes. “He’s the spirit of fear and shadow.”

His lips thinned as a look of fear flashed across his face.

“Relax, boy,” she reassured him. “He won’t come anywhere near you. He won’t take advantage.”

He drew a shuddering breath and nodded, signaling his acceptance of what she’d said. 

_Why is he so trusting of me? I haven’t done anything to earn that trust, so why does he—?_

With the softest of sighs, the flora spirit decided those questions weren’t important now and put them aside for later. Refocusing on the task at hand, she told the boy, “We talked about how, when we had a child, there would be a very real possibility that it wouldn’t love us or even like us because of what we are, particularly because of who and what he is. But we both knew that even if the child came to hate us, we couldn’t hate or reject it because it would be ours.” She drew a long breath, let it out slowly. “You see…I do not have a father, and it would be the understatement of a lifetime to say that my mother didn’t have the faintest idea of how to raise a child. That had…an effect on me, and it took a long, long time for me to get over that. My husband helped a lot, which is why I told you that you don’t have to answer my questions or tell me things if you truly don’t want to. I know how it feels to be unable to share your hurt with anyone because you know that they either won’t understand or won’t care.”

Jorge stared at her with his jaw sagging. Even Lilliana was rather surprised by what she’d just told him, but even so she didn’t regret it. There were a number of other spirits who knew just as much—or little, depending on how one looked at it—so it wasn’t as if this boy was getting any special privileges. Besides, she was only explaining things to him in such a way that he could understand and accept it without her having to waste time finding other ways to convince him that she knew what she was talking about.

 _I’ll share just enough, and nothing more,_ she thought resolutely as she watched the boy process everything she’d just told him. _And I know he’ll do the exact same thing._

“Did…um…” Jorge struggled through this question too. “Did your mom…did she ever…hurt you?”

Her response was unintentionally cold. “She’d have to pay attention to me in order to do that.”

“Oh…”

Lilliana studied his rather expressive face. “Did yours?”

Jorge shook his head, but she’d expected that answer. If his mother had been the one hurting him then his insecurities would lie with women and not men.

_Thank darkness I’m not a man, or this would’ve been even more complicated._

She knew she’d likely face a situation like that one day, when she’d have to help a child who was afraid of women, but she’d worry about that whenever the time came.

“I don’t have a dad either,” Jorge said suddenly, jerking Lilliana out of her thoughts.

“No?”

“He left before I was born.”

“I see.”

_So it wasn’t his father. Stepfather, maybe? An uncle?_

“Did you agree to help me because we’re alike?” Jorge asked, causing Lilliana to bark out a laugh.

“No, kid, that wasn’t it. Let’s just say for now that a powerful spirit thought I would be good at this job, even though I’m not very fond of kids myself and have no experience with them.”

He frowned with confusion. “You don’t like kids but you’ve thought about having one of your own?”

“Things happen, boy, even in the spirit world. It’s only prudent to plan for the unexpected, right?”

She decided it was best to leave it at that, and thankfully the boy let the matter drop.

* * *

Over the course of several more weeks, as May rolled into June and the conclusion of the human school year rapidly approached, Jorge gradually warmed up to her. Little by little, details of his life in California started to come out, and Lilliana finally began to piece together precisely what it was that had happened to him.


	25. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please mind the tags. This chapter contains discussions of past child abuse and neglect.

The first part of the story came unexpectedly. It was half-past seven in the evening, and the boy had just finished eating dinner. It had been an extremely awkward affair, as usual, and Lilliana could tell from the look on Jorge’s face that his mind was focused elsewhere. He stared down at his plate as if seeing right through it, and though he nodded his head mutely when the Rollins woman talked to him, it was a mechanical, subconscious reaction. It was quite apparent, even to the human woman, that he wasn’t really listening.

Afterwards, as the woman washed up, Jorge retreated to his room to do homework. That was when he finally spoke.

“He was good to me.”

“Who?” Lilliana inquired, not having any idea who he could possibly be talking about all of a sudden.

Dark eyes remained fixed upon the desktop. His voice was almost monotonous as he told her, “Fernando. My mom’s fiancée.”

_Oh?_

“He used to take me boating and stuff. He was really nice to me.”

“I see.”

She purposefully kept her response simple and noncommittal; there was no point pushing him when this was his first time being open with her about such a sensitive topic.

A bit of emotion crept into his voice. “He was good to my mom too.” He fiddled with his pencil, a clear indication of his rising anxiety. “She hadn’t been with anybody since my dad left. Said she didn’t need men running out on her anymore…said I was the only man she needed in her life. He was one of my uncle’s friends—he introduced them when I was a baby. They started seeing each other when I was four and…well…after a while they got engaged and we moved in with them.”

Deciding it was a safe enough question, she asked him, “How old were you when that happened?”

“They got engaged the week before my seventh birthday. We moved about a month after that.”

“Hm.”

“He was good to me,” he repeated, albeit far more quietly. “And Carlos too.”

“Carlos?”

“Fernando’s son. He’s four years older than me.”

_That would make him thirteen or fourteen now and…let’s see…about eleven when they all moved in together._

“Carlos was like my brother. He let me meet all his friends and took me to the arcade and the skating park. Whenever he and Fernando went somewhere, they’d take me along.” He sounded close to crying as he exclaimed, “I…I really liked them a lot!”

“I imagine you did,” Lilliana told him, and she truly meant it. Judging from the pain and hurt on the boy’s face, she knew without a doubt that those two people had meant a great deal to him.

_And whatever they did to him only cut deeper because of it._

Sniffing loudly, the boy asked suddenly, “Can…can you help me with this?” He gestured down at his homework.

She really didn’t want to, but since it was glaringly obvious he was only asking in an attempt to escape the topic, she obliged him. Leaving her staff propped against the windowsill, she crossed the small bedroom to lean over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Science.”

“Huh?” Her face twisted with confusion as she stared down at the black-and-white packet. “Why is there a picture of a cow? Why are you learning about cows?”

“It’s a food web,” he explained, pointing. “See: cows eat the grass, so do insects, and birds eat the insects and we eat the cows…”

“Yes, yes, I see,” Lilliana grumbled.

Jorge surprised her with a quiet laugh. “You didn’t learn about food webs in the spirit world?”

“Certainly not in _this_ manner,” she scoffed, eliciting another smothered laugh. It was a rather pleasant sound, she had to admit.

He didn’t speak of the matter again for several days. Lilliana continued to meet with him, if only to sit in companionable silence while the boy finished his homework or read. (Being an intellectual spirit, Lilliana thought it was only natural for her to peruse his shelves to see what interested him. Most of his collection was comprised of ridiculous things that she figured only young human boys could ever find fascinating, but she was pleasantly surprised to see that he’d somehow gotten his hands on a volume of Latin American folklore. Many of the legends detailed inside were the usual human-imagined drabble, but she read them all anyway because she found them strangely intriguing in their absurdity.) She was more than content to relax on Jorge’s windowsill until he plucked up the courage to talk to her again, and once or twice she actually caught him watching her as if considering saying something.

Still, it wasn’t until they were walking back to the Rollins’ from the bus stop one afternoon that he finally got around to talking about it again. Lilliana had met him there because she hated being stuck indoors all the time, especially now that summer was drawing near, and the quarter-mile trip was a simple enough excuse to get out again.

It also meant Moon-man couldn’t spy on them, which was always a delightful bonus.

“I think I scared them,” Jorge muttered, scuffing at a stone with his toe as he walked along.

“Who?”

“Those kids. The ones who gave me the seed.” He glanced over at her. “Do you know them?”

“Not really. But the other Guardians do.”

He already knew about the other Guardians, for they had come up in a prior conversation about the spirit world, but apart from mentioning that each helped children in their own way Lilliana hadn’t delved into any details about them or even shared their names.

 _As if I would ever spread belief for_ their _sake._

To the flora spirit’s smug satisfaction, Jorge didn’t seem all that interested in learning about those annoying idiots. He hadn’t asked more about them back then, and he didn’t linger on the topic now, saying instead, “They’re all really weird, especially that one girl. Anyway…” He kicked at another rock. “…the one day, a few weeks ago…that one kid came up to me to say hi. I sort of…kind of…” He winced at the memory. “I tried to hit him.”

“You did?” Though her tone remained neutral, Lilliana found herself fighting a wicked smirk that threatened to blossom across her face.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jorge said quickly. “I just… They startled me. I was at my locker, and they just… He grabbed my shoulder and…well…I just reacted…without thinking.”

He glanced at Lilliana again. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Relax kid. If they were mad at you about it, do you honestly think they’d help you by giving you that seed and telling you about me?”

It seemed he _hadn’t_ thought about that. He blinked in surprise then stared off up the sidewalk, apparently a bit shocked by the simplicity of what she’d just told him. She stifled a sigh.

_He may not be an annoying brat, but’s still remarkably naïve sometimes._

The sound of Jorge’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.

“I’m just glad they…you know, didn’t tell on me. I really didn’t mean to hurt them or anything…but nobody ever believes me.”

“About what?”

She expected another long silence, possibly even a change of topic, but he both surprised and impressed her by answering.

“Fernando, he…he was good to me, see, but after a while things just sort of…changed. He started making these comments about me, mostly about my height. I know he was just joking at first…but after a while I could just sort of tell…you know…that he didn’t actually like it. I grew bigger than Carlos, and I know _he_ didn’t like being smaller than me.”

Lilliana studied him as they walked. True, Jorge was tall for his age, but he wasn’t _that_ tall. Surely not so tall that he’d outgrown a child four years his senior at such a young age.

 _This Carlos must’ve been a short kid,_ she thought. Then another thought hit her. _Short kids usually mean short parents. That must be why ‘Fernando’ didn’t like him being so tall._

“The first time he did it I think it was an accident,” Jorge continued quietly. He still wasn’t looking at her, his dark eyes instead fixed upon the hot sidewalk. “I was fighting with Carlos. We started fighting a lot, and over really stupid things. Fernando yelled at us to stop, but we didn’t. He had to pull us apart. I…I said something stupid, and he just…”

He never actually said what it was Fernando had done to him, but Lilliana could guess so she didn’t pry.

“I told my mom the second she got home. She was upset but told me it was really my own fault for running my mouth. She said that…that Carlos had been raised that way so if Fernando had done that it was only ’cause he was looking out for me like a father would.”

Lilliana felt her blood run cold.

Those words…

Those damned words…!

The flora spirit knew that telling a child an adult did something out of love was the most powerful yet dangerous of weapons, for it took next to nothing for those well-intended words to become warped into something truly awful. She knew because she’d grown up hearing Sun Woman’s servants assure her that her mother worked so hard because she loved her and wanted her to be happy, yet no matter how much she’d pondered it Lilliana simply couldn’t grasp how love was shown through avoidance. Now, of course, she knew her mother’s work had nothing to do with love, but at the time she’d felt nothing short of miserable and terribly confused every time those words had been forced upon her ears with stiff, false smiles.

Jorge’s mother had likely meant what she’d said as a way to soothe her son’s young mind and to reassure him that Fernando considered him a true part of the family. But after all he’d suffered under that man’s hand, there was no doubt in her mind that the words had twisted into something heinous and controlling.

_I swear, if he tells me he didn’t tell her about the subsequent abuse because of what she’d said to him—_

“I…” Jorge stopped at the end of the street, hesitating on the edge of the crosswalk even though the road was clear. Staring fixedly at his dark red sneakers, he admitted very, very quietly, “I never told her about what happened…all the things that happened afterward. I didn’t think she’d believe me, and even if she did I figured she’d just…you know…say it was my fault again.”

_I knew it._

Fury burned hot inside her stomach, and Lilliana clutched tightly to her staff as she fought to keep the growing anger at bay. Her emotions only grew exponentially as Jorge described to her how the fights between him and Carlos had become more frequent and more serious, that the boy he’d always thought of as a brother grew increasingly violent and vicious. Jorge said that he often went to school or came home at night battered and bruised, but after explaining to teachers and his mother that he and Carlos had been fighting, rather than gaining sympathy he’d instead developed a reputation for starting trouble. It seemed Fernando and his son were well-known around their town, and in the close-knit neighborhood it was assumed that Jorge was nothing more than an ungrateful interloper who was trying to ruin Fernando’s engagement by getting Carlos into trouble.

_Of all the ridiculous things!_

Yes, it was ridiculous, but Lilliana believed every word the kid said. She and Pitch had both suffered the indignity of weathering pervasive stories that simply refused to die, so she was acutely aware of just how influential even the most ridiculous of rumors could be.

Jorge couldn’t share more of the story with her that day because they’d returned to the house to discover both of the Rollins were present. Then the boy just didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk about it, and Lilliana, as usual, didn’t push him.

As such, nearly a week passed before the unfortunate topic came up again.

“I found out that Fernando…that Fernando was actually telling Carlos to fight me.”

“What?!”

He was lying in bed with his back to her and the covers pulled up to his shoulders, but even so she saw him wince at the indignant outburst. “He…he really didn’t like how big I was growing, and he was upset that I beat Carlos the first time we fought. You know…that day he first hit me…”

Lilliana nodded, for she recalled that part clearly. She leaned back against the window, the flickering flame of her staff casting a menacing shadow across her face as she listened intently.

“I found out he’d been telling Carlos that people would think he was a pussy if he couldn’t beat me in a fight. Then…then all his friends…all the kids I’d been hanging out with…they…well…” He drew a shuddering breath, and she saw the dark green quilt begin to quiver. “They heard about Carlos fighting me. They all thought I was…you know…picking fights with him, so they jumped me after school to teach me a lesson. Then they started…they all started to…”

He was nearly hyperventilating by that point. Concerned, Lilliana got up and crossed the room to stare down at the trembling, terrified mess that was her ward. Not quite certain what one was supposed to do to comfort a small human child, she sat beside him on the bed. Without saying a word, she reached out a hand, laid it on his shoulder, and remained there quietly until he’d calmed down.

“You do not have to tell me,” she reminded him, but he shook his head.

“No. No I want to tell you.” He drew a deep breath. “I just…I just don’t like talking about it.”

“I understand. It’s a very hard thing to relive.”

They sat in silence for a bit longer. Then Jorge took another breath and bravely continued with his tale.

“They started coming over after school all the time. My mom worked second shift, two-to-ten, so she was always gone when we got home. It…well…it scared me ’cause of what’d happened before, so I stopped going right home. I’d wait ’til it got dark and they all had to leave, but then Fernando told my mom and I got grounded so I couldn’t do that anymore. At first they’d just…yell at me and stuff…trying to goad me into fighting them. I…I didn’t want to. I never wanted to fight them! I don’t know why everyone always thought I did, ’cause I didn’t! But Fernando kept egging them on and stuff and…well…one of them hit me, and I got scared and hit him back. It started this _huge_ fight…” He sniffled. “The neighbors called the cops. My mom had to leave work early and almost got fired. She was so mad, mad and me and Fernando. She was screaming at him about how he was supposed to be the man of the house but he’d gone and allowed a boys’ spat to get so far out of hand. She yelled at him more than she yelled at me.

“After that,” he went on in hoarse whisper, “Fernando didn’t let Carlos bring friends over. He sent him over to their houses instead. He told my mom it was to keep him away from me, so there wouldn’t be issues, and she agreed to it. But…but really he just…”

The trembling beneath her hand had begun once more. Lilliana gave his shoulder a slight squeeze to reassure him.

“At first it was just punishments and stuff. He’d make me hold books over my head or miss dinner or…or scrub the toilet with a toothbrush, things like that. But one time…he made me stand with my nose in the corner. I was there so long I just…I think I fell asleep and…”

_Oh no._

“…and he…he got so mad…” The trembling became shaking, his entire body quaking with fear as the horrible memories returned to him. “When I woke up, he was…he was belting me. He made me wear jeans to school for a week ’cause the marks wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t even wear shorts around my mom. I…I didn’t want her to find out I’d gotten into trouble again.”

Lilliana closed her eyes against the wave of emotion that filled her. She didn’t dare say anything to him, for she instinctively knew that anything she said would be far from adequate.

“It was like that for a while. Sometimes he’d even wake me up ’cause he’d get mad over something after I went to bed. I’d be asleep and then he’d be in my room just pounding on me. A couple of times…when he did that…my mom was home. So after I woke up he’d tell me I had to be real quiet or she’d hear and get mad at me. She was always so tired when she got home from work. So then I had to…you know…be quiet while he…he…”

He’d reached the end of his fortitude. In spite of his determination to tell her everything, Jorge’s voice dropped away into nothing and he didn’t speak of his life in California again for a long, long time. As promised, Lilliana didn’t push him. Instead she spoke of the spirit world, sharing some stories of the places she’d been to until he finally drifted off to sleep. He liked hearing about the spirit world, though he seemed to find her duties as the flora spirit most fascinating of all. As he continued to grow increasingly comfortable in her company he stopped hesitating to ask her questions, and through these innocent inquiries he finally began to lose his stammer. Lilliana also noticed (though she made no comment about it so as to avoid making him self-conscious) that her ward was making eye contact with her and the Rollins couple far more frequently. That was certainly a good thing.

* * *

Summer approached and the days steadily grew longer, prompting the two of them to spend more time outdoors. To avoid the uncomfortable situation of a non-believer thinking Jorge was talking to himself or, worse, one of those meddlesome brats who’d foiled her Pitch spotting them together, Jorge and Lilliana usually retreated to some quiet part of the woods. There they could talk in private, and during the lulls in conversation the flora spirit took to summoning different plants for the boy to examine. He didn’t care much for flowers, but was truly fascinated by trees, and a couple of times she even permitted him to follow her around as she tended to the forest that naturally grew around Burgess. (She steered clear of Pitch’s realm, of course, which was an easy enough thing to do without the boy being any the wiser.) These quiet times together seemed to help Jorge almost as much as their conversations did, for they offered a well-deserved respite from the thoughts and memories that weighed so heavily on his mind.

Then, on a Thursday afternoon in early June, the boy came to her with a rather unconventional request.

“Can you help me make _chilaquiles_?”

“Isn’t that a breakfast food?”

“Normally, yeah,” he said, giving her a funny look. “But I’ve been wanting some for a while. My mom…my mom used to make them all the time.”

_So he still misses home, even after everything that happened._

“I see.”

“So can you help me?”

He looked so uncharacteristically enthusiastic about the whole thing that Lilliana just couldn’t bring herself to turn him down. She heaved a sigh.

“I don’t see why not. But I’m _not_ going to your ridiculous human supermarkets or whatever you call them now. You take care of that nonsense.”

“Of course! And can we make _enchiladas_ , too? That way it’s more of a dinner!”

“Do you even have money to buy all that?”

“Mrs. Rollins has been giving me an allowance, but I haven’t been spending it. I just…never had anything to spend it on, I guess.”

“Hmm. So when do you want to do this?”

“Tomorrow night? Mrs. Rollins has some sort of meeting, so she won’t be back ’til eight, and I can get the groceries on the way home from school.”

He’d obviously put a lot of thought into this. He was practically beaming as he bounded up the steps to the Rollins’ house, and Lilliana thought it was a welcome sight for a change.

And so, the following night, the flora spirit turned up at four-thirty. Jorge was already in the kitchen, surrounded by bags of groceries.

“How much are you planning to eat?” she asked, setting her staff aside.

“Well, I figured it would be weird if I ate them alone since you’re helping me. Plus the Rollins might want some when they get back, so I got enough for four.”

“I see.”

She had to admit, she _was_ feeling rather hungry. She’d been feeling hungry an awful lot lately, which she was finding increasingly annoying. It was bad enough she was starting to get a bit of a belly _without_ stuffing herself silly with all the things she’d been craving lately; she could only imagine what she’d look like at this point if she hadn’t been so strong-willed.

_Dammit, baby._

“Here!” Jorge was pulling things out of the grey plastic bags. Lilliana saw cooking oil and mushrooms and cheese and _lots_ of tortillas. “I wasn’t quite sure what to get, so I looked up a recipe and just bought what they said to.”

“Good enough,” Lilliana told him, helping him move things to the kitchen counter. “If we’re missing something, I’m sure we can manage.”

“Do you cook a lot?” he asked as he dug around in a cupboard for a pan.

“Of course. Who do you think I am?”

“Uh…the spirit of plants?”

“And what’s all this food made out of?”

“Pla—” Realization dawned on him. “Ohhhhh.”

“Exactly. Now put that pan back and get a bigger one. You’ll get oil everywhere if you try to fry in that one.”

Cooking with Jorge turned out to be far more enjoyable than Lilliana had anticipated. It was clear he didn’t know a thing about cuisine, but he did as he was told without question and seemed genuinely interested in learning. He was awed speechless by her knife skills, and though he was a bit wary about handling the hot oil Lilliana showed him how to drop the tortilla strips in without scalding himself. After that he managed on his own just fine.

As he slipped a fresh batch into the pan, he told her, “I have a really large family.”

“Oh?” Her attention was on the eggs she was frying for the _chilaquiles._

“Yeah. My mom’s got six brothers, and they’ve all got kids. A couple of my uncles have been married two or three times, so I have a _lot_ of cousins, and some of them are a lot older than me and have their own kids. So our family’s, like, _huge._ ”

“Did they all live in the same area as you?”

“A lot of them live in California, yeah. But I’ve got a bunch of cousins in Nevada, too, and some in Arizona and a couple in New Mexico and I think there’s a few who live in Texas somewhere.”

“Do you talk to any of them?”

“I used to. We lived with my grandma when I was a baby so I knew her best. I’d sometimes go to her house when Fernando was…”

His voice trailed off, but the silence only lasted a few seconds this time.

“She wouldn’t get in my face like he did, but my mom was talking to her, calling her up to tell her how I’d been fighting with Carlos and trying Fernando something awful. My grandma didn’t like that. She’d scold me all the time, tell me that Fernando was the best thing to happen to my mom and that I ought to be ashamed of myself for trying to ruin that for her after everything she went through to have me.”

“Did you ever tell her what was going on?”

“I tried once. But she said the same thing my mom said. She said I just wasn’t used to having a man in the house to raise me, and that I ought to be grateful Fernando was taking such an interest in me when most men won’t even look twice at a woman with a kid.”

“Did anyone in your family believe you?”

He shook his head. “They all liked Fernando. Him and my Uncle Ángel had known each other forever, so he was like part of the family. Plus they’d all heard about me fighting and the thing with the cops, so even when they saw the bruises they all thought I’d just been getting into trouble again.”

“How’d you get out, then?”

“Well…” He laughed suddenly, but it was a quiet, humorless sort of laugh that hung heavily in the hot kitchen. “One of my cousins…Ramón…he’s a lot older than me. He’s been in and out of jail a lot, so most of my family pretends he doesn’t exist whenever he’s locked up. When he’s out he goes around asking for money or a place to sleep, and they’ll help him a bit, but they never let him stay long ’cause he starts to steal things.”

He was quiet for a bit as he retrieved the fried tortillas and dropped the freshly cut strips into the oil. “He stayed with us for a few days. I didn’t like him. He kept making fun of me for having the cops called on me. He thought it was funny. Kept saying things like ‘Least I’m not the only deviant in the family’, stuff like that. But one night…one night Fernando got mad at me ’cause I forgot to do the dishes. Ramón … Ramón walked in on us. He got real upset, started yelling at Fernando, asking him what the hell he was doing. He tried to get him to leave me alone, but Fernando just laughed, told him to mind his own business. When my cousin wouldn’t shut up about it, he got real mad and told him that if he didn’t leave him alone he’d tell the cops _he_ was the one who’d done it. But Ramón he…he just grabbed me and ran out the door with me. He threw me in the van and took me straight to the cops. When we got there, they tried to have Ramón arrested ’cause Fernando had called them up hollering, saying my cousin had been beating me and had kidnapped me. I didn’t want Ramón to get into trouble, but when I tried to tell them who’d really done it they didn’t believe me. When Fernando came he told them Ramón had probably scared me into lying, and they listened to him and were gonna make me go home with him.

“I just started crying and screaming and making this huge fuss in front of all the cops about how I didn’t wanna go. It was really embarrassing…but it got them to listen to me. They put me into this room with some weird lady who asked me all these questions about what was happening at home. I was real scared she wouldn’t believe me and make me go with Fernando anyway, but I told her. Then my mom showed up, and she told the lady and the cops that I was lying, that Fernando wouldn’t hurt me and that he had _never_ hit me. She kept telling me to tell the truth, and I was so confused ’cause I _was_ telling the truth and she _knew_ that Fernando had hit me before, but she still kept telling everybody that I was a liar.”

He shook his head again, and out of the corner of her eye Lilliana saw that he was starting to cry. Tears streaked silently down his cheeks as he told her softly, “I don’t know how they figured it all out…. I don’t really remember most of what happened. But the cops ended up arresting Fernando and letting Ramón go. My mom was so mad at me. She started screaming and hollering at me. She made such a fuss in the station the cops ended up arresting her too. Then they asked me who I wanted to go stay with, and I told them my grandma ’cause I didn’t know if anybody else had room for me. But when she came she had Fernando’s sister with her and they took Carlos home instead. Nobody could get anybody to take me ’cause they were all mad my mom and Fernando had gotten arrested. I ended up spending the whole night at the station then they put me in foster care.

“I went to one home, and it was okay. But after a couple of weeks a whole bunch of my mom’s and Fernando’s relatives showed up. Five or six cars of them. They were banging on the door yelling about me and calling me a liar and demanding that I tell the truth. It was real scary. The cops chased them all off, but the Hesters didn’t want me anymore after that. They threw all my stuff into a bag and put me into one of the cop cars and told them they weren’t gonna have me anymore no matter what. It was in the news and everything, what had happened, so nobody wanted to foster me after that. And the cops were scared my family would find me again, ’cause people were writing all over the internet that they’d rather I was…that they’d rather I was dead if that meant keeping Fernando out of jail. I guess that’s when the judge decided since I was young and it was a big safety thing and, you know, ’cause they had the records and stuff, that I didn’t have to testify or anything. So in the middle of the night the cops took me to the airport and stuck me on a plane with an undercover escort. I didn’t even know where I was going ’til I got here. The lady cop flying with me wouldn’t tell me.”

Lilliana drew a long breath, let it out slowly. So that was it. That was the story of how he’d wound up in a foster home thousands of miles away from his family, how he’d come to fear men, and why he’d instinctively lashed out at those kids Frost associated with when they startled him.

The man he’d escaped hadn’t just been abusive, he’d been extremely devious, manipulating his own son and fiancée and even the wider community until everyone who could’ve possibly helped Jorge had been turned against him, leaving the boy with the overwhelming, soul-crushing belief that _he_ was in the wrong and that _he_ was the problem.

_That’s why I refuse to allow others to sway my judgment of people. I decide for myself what to think of them based upon their words and actions alone._

“Do you like it here at least?” she asked.

“It’s all right.” With the last of the fried tortillas stacked on the platter, Jorge brought it over to Lilliana so they could start shaping the _chilaquiles._ The _enchiladas_ were already in the oven baking. “I _do_ like it better than the Hesters’ place...”

“But?” she prompted.

“But…I don’t know. It’s just not the same.” As he helped her sprinkle cheese onto the _chilaquiles,_ he said, “Is it…you know… _wrong_ that I still sort of miss home?”

“Not at all.”

“Why? It feels weird to miss it so much.”

“And it should.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

She sighed. “You see, boy, home isn’t defined by a building or even by the presence of blood kin. Home is wherever you feel safe, happy, and loved. It can be any place, in any community, with anybody. My home is with my husband, wherever he may be, because I never felt truly welcome in my mother’s realm no matter how often her servants claimed that she cared for me. What you miss are the happy years you spent with your family, particularly those you shared with your mother. Perhaps it’ll be easier to think about if you consider it a type of grieving, which is a perfectly normal emotion to experience. It just feels strange to you because home and pain are now synonymous within your mind due to Fernando’s actions, and that same correlation is largely responsible for your reluctance to open up to this town and to these Rollins people you are staying with.”

His frown deepened, confusion written openly upon his face. She explained:

“Because you both miss and fear home, you’re reluctant to form new bonds with anyone or anything. You were betrayed not just by Fernando, but by his son and your friends and even your own mother. Now you live with this fear that everyone and everything is going to turn on you someday, that it’s inevitable they’ll eventually come to hate and hurt you.”

He bowed his head.

“I understand why you feel that way, boy, but _you_ have to understand that you can’t possibly live like that forever. I can tell you from personal experience that it’s extremely lonely spending your days believing no one will ever truly want you. Or, hell, even like you. Your fear is a shield that you think will protect you from pain, but in reality it’s only driving your hurt deeper and deeper inside. It will take a long time—possibly even years—but some day you will have to accept the fact that there _are_ people out there in the world who will trust you and believe you and whom you, in turn, can believe and trust.”

“Like friends and stuff?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe a foster family…possibly even a lover someday.”

She smirked when he pulled a face.

“Yuck! Like _that_ will ever happen!” He cracked the oven open and peered inside. “I think they’re done,” he informed her, stepping aside so the flora spirit could take a peek.

“They are. Take those mitts and pull them out _carefully_.”

He was extremely careful, and retrieved the hot _enchiladas_ without burning himself or making a mess. Just as he was placing the hot glass dish onto the stovetop, however, there came the sound of the front door opening and an older woman’s voice calling, “Jorge?”

Jorge stiffened, and Lilliana saw his eyes flash to the clock. No doubt he was thinking the same thing she was.

_She’s early._

“Jorge?” The door banged shut, followed almost immediately by the jingle of keys against wood. Tapping footsteps signaled her approach. “Jorge, are you cooking?”

He spun around to face the kitchen door just as the Rollins woman stepped inside. She stared at him while he stammered in English, “I…well…you see I just…”

He glanced at Lilliana—invisible to the unbelieving adult—who gave him an encouraging nod. He swallowed, gathered his courage, and said as clearly as he could, “Since…since you said you were gonna be late I…I thought I’d cook dinner.”

She shocked him by breaking into a broad smile. “Well, I’ll say! It smells delicious!” She crossed the room to get a better look. “Mmm!” she said appreciatively as she smelled the _enchiladas_. “Why didn’t you say you could cook?”

“I can’t,” he said before quickly explaining, “I mean I…I just sort of…had some help.”

It was the weakest excuse Lilliana had ever heard, but the human woman bought it.

“I see that,” she commented, picking up the recipes Jorge had left on the counter. “Nicely done for a beginner, though from now on I think you ought to save the frying for when Hank or I are home, okay?”

“Right,” he replied, casting the cooling pan of cooking oil a brief glance.

“Well, let’s eat!” the woman exclaimed, heading straight to the cupboard for some plates. While her back was turned, Jorge mouthed to Lilliana ‘I’m sorry’, but she waved off the apology.

“Next time,” she promised, the words going completely unheard by the bustling human female. The boy nodded but quickly stopped when Mrs. Rollins glanced at him curiously. He ducked his head, covering the awkwardness of getting caught nodding at nothing by offering to help set the table.

Lilliana stood back for a few minutes, quietly watching the pair as they ate. The Rollins woman looked absolutely thrilled to have finally found something that interested Jorge, and he, for his part, seemed to be enjoying her company for once. Though still a bit shy and reserved, he was able to actually have a proper conversation with her.

_Well done, kid._

The flora spirit left them to it, stepping out into the gathering evening. The sun was setting, but it was still rather warm, and just as she was about to summon her vortex of vines to carry her home, a thought came to her. Lowering her staff, she approached the oak that loomed large over the Rollins’ front yard. Reaching out with both her hand and her power, she placed her palm against the sturdy trunk. Leaves rustled gently above her head as the tree hummed to her, responding to her presence. It was old—older than any of the Guardians, in fact—but still quite healthy and strong; there were many years left within it, provided the humans didn’t take axe or saw to it.

_"You have stood guard over this plot for many centuries, loving every human that has ever dwelled here. Take pride in your resilience and diligence, for they have not gone unnoticed.”_

The words were smooth yet formal, for she was mindful of the tree’s age and wisdom. The leaves rustled once more, acknowledging her voice.

_“I must ask of you: be truly vigilant from now on. The boy who lives in this house is being hunted by his kin. The humans have done their best to protect him, but as humans their influence is limited. Beware any stranger who carries the scent of the west, and call for me immediately should any threat appear before your watchful eyes.”_

Despite the lack of wind, branches swayed until every leaf shook. From way up in the canopy, Lilliana heard the sharp rapping of wood against wood. Stepping back, she reached out a hand, easily catching the oak’s offering of a single acorn as it dropped straight into her waiting palm. She did not need an explanation to know what this meant—she could feel a tiny amount of the tree’s power radiating from that little seed, and knew that should the stoic sentinel spot danger the acorn would crack, signaling her to come immediately.

_“Thank you, ancient one. May your life be long and your roots grow deep.”_

Though the leaves were still once more, Lilliana had the distinct impression that the tree was chuckling. She, too, smiled a bit at the irony, for her magic made her very aware of the fact that the old tree’s roots were already buried deep into the earth.

Tucking the acorn into her pocket, Lilliana twirled her staff to summon the vines she needed to carry her home.


	26. Healing

They picked up the interrupted conversation again the very next day. As it was a Saturday, and the weather was so nice, Jorge was chased out of the house by Mrs. Rollins. He sat under the oak tree in his front yard with a book held up to his face, that way nobody passing by would suspect that he was talking to someone.

“How was it last night?” Lilliana asked, though she already knew the answer.

“All right,” he replied easily. “She’s not that bad.”

“Good.”

“Do you think—?” He hesitated for just a moment as he put his thoughts in order. “Do you think they ever…you know, think I’m a burden?”

She snorted. “Please. If you were a burden to them, do you honestly think they’d be doing this in the first place?”

“Huh?”

“You _do_ know that they’ve been taking in kids for a long time, right?”

He had to know that. Even _she_ knew that.

He nodded. “Yeah, of course I do. But most of the time they make arrangements beforehand, you know. Like they get to pick which kids they want and stuff. With me it was all so sudden… I just feel like I was, I don’t know, thrown at them or something.”

“You were, in a way, but that wasn’t something you or they or anyone else could help. The police back in California needed to get you away from your family. I may not know a lot about your human legal and foster systems, but I’m fairly certain they purposefully picked this home because it serves a dual purpose. It’s far from any of your kin, so it’s incredibly unlikely that they’ll find you again, but even if they do somehow locate you they’ll have to contend with that Rollins man and his, shall we say, _connections_.”

Standing there beside him, the flora spirit glanced down at the boy. “Trust me, it may have happened suddenly but a great deal of thought was put into this. And after what happened with your first foster family, do you honestly think pity alone would’ve been enough to convince these people to take you?”

He thought about that. “I guess not,” he decided after a while.

“Then don’t consider yourself a burden. They haven’t made you feel unwelcome, have they?”

He shook his head.

“There you have it,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You carry so much anxiety—you’re twisting everything in your head until you can only see negativity every time you open your eyes. That’s what I was talking about yesterday when I said that your fear is ultimately more harmful than helpful.”

“But I can’t help it,” he said quietly. “I’ve tried to stop being scared…like with Mr. Rollins and stuff. But it’s hard.”

“You suffered under Fernando for a long time, boy,” she pointed out gently. “The effects of that aren’t going to disappear instantaneously. As I said: it may take a long time, possibly even years. It all depends.”

“On what?”

She shrugged. “It’s different for everyone. It took me centuries, but that was partly my own fault. I have a bad habit of disappearing into the wilds somewhere whenever I get upset. Distancing myself from others like that did provide temporary relief, but it also kept me apart from the one spirit could’ve possibly helped me.”

“Your husband?” the boy reasoned.

“Yes. We coexisted in this world for many, many years before we ever met. Perhaps if I’d met him sooner I would’ve been spared some of the pain and loneliness I endured, perhaps not, but after becoming acquainted with him I finally understood that nothing will ever change if you’re unwilling to take calculated risks.”

“‘Calculated risks?’” he repeated, confused.

She thought for a moment, trying to put it into words his young mind could understand. “Because I had been hurt so often and by so many, from my mother and her servants to the numerous spirits of this world, I’d decided that being alone was less painful than being rejected. In my mind, the hope of finally meeting someone who accepted me for who and what I am simply wasn’t worth the risk of being hurt again. Because of that, I didn’t meet my husband until long after I’d spent so much time alone that I was desperate for some sort of company… _any_ sort of company.”

Lilliana’s piercing green eyes caught and held the boy’s dark ones. This was something he needed to hear, no matter how painful it might be for him.

“Be it a human or a spirit, there’s no way for you to know with complete certainty whether or not someone will hurt you. That has nothing to do with you, but with the fact that everyone possesses the capacity to make their own decisions. You knew your mother for literally your entire life—”

He winced.

“—she gave birth to you and raised you and, for the first seven or eight years of your life, she loved you unconditionally. I cannot say why she did it—nobody can explain why except for her—but when the time came for her to make a choice, she chose to side with Fernando. That was _her_ decision and hers alone. The fact of the matter is you couldn’t have stopped her from making that choice any more than you could’ve possibly stopped Fernando from doing the things he did to you. ”

“So then…how do I know? How am I supposed to trust anyone if I don’t know if they’re gonna hurt me or not?”

“That’s what I meant by calculated risk. Just because everyone around you is capable of doing terrible things doesn’t necessarily mean that they will. The people you loved most betrayed and hurt you, yet the cousin you detested, Ramón, turned out to be the only one willing to help you. That goes to show that just as each and every relationship you form in your life carries the potential of bringing you pain or sorrow or anger, they also have the capacity to bring you joy and comfort and love. Some may even do both. You first have to learn to decide for yourself which people are worthy of your attention and trust, and which ones are not. Then you have to understand and accept the fact that while many will treasure that trust and treat it with honor, others will abuse or abandon it. But doesn’t the lasting happiness you gain from those positive relationships far outweigh the temporary hurt from those that eventually break?”

Jorge stared up at her. “Does it?”

“In my mind, it does. All the hurt and confusion and anger and loneliness I endured as a young spirit were terrible, yes, and they very nearly broke me. But had I not decided to take one final chance I would’ve never met my husband, who has given me all the happiness I could ever possibly want.”

She bent down so that they were literally nose-to-nose. His eyes widened but he didn’t dare look away as she informed him in a firm voice, “Those are the choices you have, boy: either take the chance that you might be hurt in exchange for the possibility of gaining life-long relationships, or stay miserable and lonely forever.” Then she grinned. “Actually…you’ve already made the choice once.”

He drew back a little, startled and confused by that statement. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you decide to trust me in spite of the fact that you knew literally nothing about me except that I am a spirit?”

“Yes,” he admitted slowly. “But…but that’s different.”

“How so?”

“Umm…” He thought hard about it, but just couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation.

“See?” she said, straightening up again. “It will be hard for you at first, but with time and practice you’ll become more acquainted with trusting humans again.”

Her attention suddenly drawn by a familiar—if still far-off—presence, Lilliana turned her head to stare off into the distance.

 _If_ he’s _here, that can only mean…_

Reaching out with her power, she touched the roots of the earth to obtain confirmation. Upon receiving it, she told Jorge, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he asked eagerly, setting the book aside at once and clambering to his feet.

“I’m going to show you.”

“Show me what?” he inquired, huffing a bit as he struggled to catch up with her.

“That risks are sometimes worth taking.”

He frowned, his expressive face reflecting a mixture of confusion and worry, but he dutifully followed without further question. The expression only became more pronounced as they headed into the forest, for he had no idea why they would be going there so suddenly.

Then he heard laughter.

“Where are we going?” he asked again, only this time his voice was little more than a squeak.

“Relax, boy. Do you honestly think I’d introduce you to a bunch of hoodlums?”

“Well, no,” he admitted reluctantly. “But…but I thought you didn’t know anyone here except me.”

“I don’t _know_ them,” she corrected. “I honestly don’t even like them.”

“Then why are you making me—?!” His outburst ended abruptly when he spotted the kids through the trees and recognized them. “Oh.”

Yes, Lilliana didn’t like those kids. In fact, she very nearly detested them. But they knew of the Guardians, and they knew of her, both of which would make befriending them easier for Jorge.

Besides, as angry as she was with them for defying her Pitch, the events of this past Easter made it clear to her that they were precisely the sort of stubborn, devoted human beings Jorge needed to be associating with.

 _Detestable as they are, anyone who’s willing to challenge the Nightmare King for the sake of five idiot spirits isn’t going to turn on their comrades anytime soon,_ she thought, eyeing the scene before her with more than a little distaste.

The six brats in question were gathered near the pond, having what appeared to be a water-balloon fight. They looked ridiculous, soaking wet as they were, but a quick glance at Jorge revealed that she’d done well in bringing him here. He was wide-eyed with envy as he observed the fun and excitement they appeared to be creating together. Frost was there, too, unbeknownst to Jorge, laughing exuberantly as he soared about on his wind. The winter spirit was too busy pelting earth-bound humans with balloons to notice the arrival of an audience, and amidst the chaos in the clearing Lilliana’s ward didn’t realize that a number of projectiles were seemingly dropping from the sky of their own accord.

“Those guys?” Jorge asked, still uncertain in spite of his obvious desire to join in.

“They told you about me, didn’t they?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“So I think it’s safe to assume that they don’t hold any malice towards you. Besides,” she gestured towards the group, “looks like fun, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said wistfully.

“So why not take a chance and go talk to them?”

In the end, the choice was made for him, for as Jorge continued to hesitate on the edge of the tree line one of the brats spotted him.

“Hey, look!” he exclaimed, pointing. In his moment of distraction, one of the two participating girls caught him in the back of the head with a balloon. It burst spectacularly, dousing him with water.

“Haha, Jamie, got you!” she sang.

“No, look!” the brat insisted, wiping soaked bangs out of his eyes with one hand and pointing with the other. There was a broad smile plastered on his face. “It’s Jorge!”

The other kids and Frost all stopped to look while the boy waved enthusiastically. “Hey, Jorge!” he called. “Whatcha doing?!”

Jorge took a step back, his gaze darting wildly to Lilliana. The flora spirit had chosen to remain hidden amongst the trees, for she not only desired to associate with Frost and those brats as little as possible but also recognized the need for Jorge to start handling his own affairs. Still, upon catching sight of the boy’s rising panic, she offered an encouraging nod.

“Go on.”

“I…I dunno if I can…” he whispered.

“It worked out well enough with the Rollins woman last night, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Hi!”

Jorge jumped as the brat who’d called out to him suddenly appeared at his elbow.

“I’m Jamie,” he said, panting a little. “We’ve met before.”

“I know,” Jorge mumbled, staring down at his sneakers.

“Wanna play with us?”

“Umm…”

“Woah!”

That exclamation came from a pair of dark-skinned twins who’d come up behind the Jamie brat.

“Are you Starfire?” one of them asked, staring directly at the half-hidden flora spirit.

“Duh, it’s Starfire,” the other said, whacking his brother on the arm. “We wouldn’t see her if it wasn’t, idiot.”

“Oh yeah.”

They turned in unison to fix Lilliana with stupid wide-eyed looks, and even that Jamie brat had shifted his attention onto her.

“Hi,” he said, but with a little less enthusiasm than he had with Jorge. “I’m Jamie.”

“I heard,” she replied in a clipped voice. She was trying really hard to remain impartial for Jorge’s sake, but facing this brat who’d singlehandedly foiled her Pitch left a drop of bitter anger in her stomach.

 _Look at him,_ she thought, eyeing the scrawny boy up and down. _It’s absurd that someone like that can thwart a spirit._

“So, wanna play?” the Jamie brat asked Jorge, either oblivious to the dark look he was receiving from Lilliana or choosing to act as though he was. She strongly suspected the latter to be the case, for his human friends were all regarding her with a mixture of awed excitement and worry.

“If…if you want me to,” Jorge said shyly. Then he lifted his head. “Sorry I tried to hit you,” he said in a rush, pushing the words out of his mouth before he lost the nerve to say them.

Jamie waved his apology off. “Don’t worry about it, I know we startled you.”

“Just don’t try that with Cupcake, or she’ll pummel you,” one of the twins said. His brother’s laughter at that statement turned into a cackle when the girl in question clenched her fist and punched the boy on the arm. Not too hard, of course, but hard enough to hurt. “Ow!”

Glaring, the stocky girl stomped up to Jorge. “Good thing you listened to me,” she said gruffly, her face twisted into a scowl. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jorge replied, taking a half-step back.

The girl’s face then underwent a remarkable transformation. Every tense muscle relaxed as she suddenly beamed at him. “You’re on our team!”

“Hey, no fair!” the twins cried in unison. “It’s already four-to-three!”

“You guys have Jack,” the girl retorted. “And we’ve got Monty.”

“Hey!” a blonde brat with glasses—who’d been hanging back quietly until that point—exclaimed indignantly while the twins sniggered.

“So we get Jorge,” the stocky girl told them as if that finalized the matter.

“Are we playing or what?” the other girl called as she patted the pouting blonde on the shoulder. “And Jack, no cheating!”

“I’m not cheating,” the frost spirit said, lifting his hands in a gesture of innocence.

“We said you could fly, but you can’t deflect balloons with the wind! That’s not fair!”

“Who are you talking to?” Jorge asked, prompting all six kids to look at him.

“Jack Frost,” the Jamie brat said with a huge grin. Apparently the prospect of enlightening a non-believer as to the existence of the idiot Guardian excited him. He pointed to where the frost spirit was standing. “He’s over there!”

Jorge looked but couldn’t see him.

“He’s a spirit too,” the brat explained happily. “So you have to believe to see him. He’s also a Guardian!”

The knowledge that this unseen spirit had some sort of connection with Lilliana immediately grabbed Jorge’s interest. “Really?”

“Yeah! The Guardian of Fun! Pretty cool, huh?”

Frost grinned at the praise while Lilliana rolled her eyes. Jorge didn’t see either, though, as Frost was still invisible to him and his back was to the flora spirit.

“You’ve gotta meet the other Guardians, too,” the brat went on excitedly. “Santa Clause and Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy and—”

“They’re all real?” Jorge exclaimed, his eyes growing wide at the implications of what that meant.

“Yeah, they’re the other Guardians! And Sandman, too! They’re all awesome! You’ll get to meet them if you believe!”

“Really?!”

“Of course! Starfire’s gonna be a Guardian soon, too, right? So you’ll probably get to meet them when she takes the oath!”

“You brats aren’t going!” Lilliana interrupted, but it was already too late.

“Aw, come on,” the Jamie brat whined. “We got to see Jack’s oath-taking, so why not yours? Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

“You’re _not_ going!”

“Why not?” Jorge asked curiously, and at that moment Frost smirked and Lilliana groaned because they both knew she’d just lost the argument.

But that didn’t stop her from trying to salvage the situation.

“Because I don’t want them there,” she told Jorge. “They only cause trouble.”

“If you mean that bit with your husband, _he_ started it,” that annoying brunette called, hands going to her hips.

“Can’t I go?” Jorge pleaded, thankfully missing the girl’s declaration. Lilliana raked a hand through her curls in frustration.

“Yes, _you_ can go, but not them!”

“Hey, now, that’s not really fair, is it?” Frost asked with a conspiratorial grin.

“Butt out, Frost!”

“He _is_ real?!” Instantly distracted, Jorge looked back out into the clearing and gasped, one hand shooting up to point at the frost spirit. “You’re…you’re really…?! _¡Dios!_ ”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Frost said with a laugh.

“See?” the Jamie brat told Lilliana brightly. “It’s lots more fun when everybody’s included!”

Before the flora spirit could cut him with a retort, he grabbed Jorge’s hand and dragged the taller boy out into the clearing. “Come on! It’s Claude, Caleb and Jack against the rest of us!”

“And remember, Jack, no cheating!” the brunette reminded the spirit, who groaned good-naturedly.

“Fine, Pippa, fine.”

But Lilliana wasn’t through. The matter of the oath-taking wasn’t settled, in her opinion, not one little bit.

“You brats are _not_ going!” she insisted, but none of them were listening. They’d already started pelting each other with those ridiculous rubber projectiles, and she just couldn’t bring herself to ruin that over something so petty when Jorge was clearly enjoying himself.

_You damn brats…_

“Annoying, ain’t it?”

Lilliana wasn’t at all surprised when the rabbit hopped forward, for she’d felt his presence the moment he’d opened up a tunnel in the nearby trees. Reaching her side, he rose up on two legs and gazed out into the clearing, flat nose twitching as he watched the kids and Frost play.

“You get used to the ankle-biters after a while,” he assured her in a far calmer tone than she was used to hearing from the Pooka.

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” she questioned, causing him to chuckle dryly.

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”

They stood in silence for a long while. Lilliana watched Jorge pelt one of the twins in the back of the head with a balloon. The silly red thing exploded in a shower of cold water, and the flora spirit smirked as she watched the kid shout and leap about like a half-drowned feline.

Even more impressive than that spectacular shot, though, was the sound of Jorge’s genuine laughter. It echoed around the clearing and out through the trees, filling Lilliana’s chest with a pleasant warmth.

The rabbit seemed to be listening too, for when he spoke again it didn’t take much effort to deduce who he was talking about. “Takes a lot of talent to get something like that outta them without Frost’s help,” he said, meaning the frost spirit’s magical snowflakes. “Especially after what he went through.”

Emerald eyes flicked to the flora spirit. “Well done, sheila.”

The corner of her mouth lifted into a wicked smile. “How do those words taste, rabbit?”

“Like dung,” he replied curtly, but as there was no malice in those words Lilliana didn’t take offence. “Really, Starfire, I think you’ll do fine with this,” he continued. “I admit that I was wrong to worry.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, not trusting herself to say anything else as it would undoubtedly be taken the wrong way. She didn’t need an argument when she was in a pretty good mood right now.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if the rabbit was quite through with her just yet.

“About before,” he said, shuffling his large feet. “When I went after you at the Pole…I shouldn’t have done that.”

She heaved a long sigh. “I was partly to blame,” she admitted with a great deal of reluctance. “I shouldn’t have goaded you.”

“Still, I should’ve held my temper, _especially_ since Manny had chosen you. Ain’t exactly a pleasant welcome to the group, ya know?”

“Well, you all got what you wanted in the end regardless.”

The rabbit shifted again, only this time he stepped right in front of the flora spirit so that he was facing her-head on. Emerald eyes stared directly into leaf-green ones as the Pooka informed her, “You need to understand something, Starfire. None of this was part of some conspiracy to hurt or enslave you. You _or_ Pitch,” he added when Lilliana opened her mouth. “Manny may have his own way of doing things, but that certainly doesn’t mean he does them for purely selfish reasons. He would never use Guardianship for personal gain, ’cause that would demean what we do and dehumanize the kids we help.” He shook his head slightly. “You may not believe me, but that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. Just remember that Manny looks out for children, _all_ children, and that you, Starfire, were once a child.”

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

“Maybe the reason he looks out for you ain’t ’cause he feels guilty over how you were born,” the Pooka went on, heedless of the flora spirit’s dumbfounded look. “Maybe it’s ’cause he feels guilty over the fact that he couldn’t help you when you were a kid ’cause Sun Woman wouldn’t let him interfere.”

 _What is he saying?_ she wondered, a strange numbness taking over her body. _Is he suggesting that Moon-man obsesses over me because he feels bad for_ me _, and not_ _because he feels bad for my mother?_

If that were the case, then just what the hell was she supposed to do with that knowledge?

She honestly didn’t know.

With one last hard look, the Pooka stepped away from her, returning to his original position at her side.

“Just keep that in mind,” he muttered, dropping down to all-fours so he could scratch at an itch on his shoulder. Clumps of winter coat broke free of his body to float away on the wind. “Dammit, it’s getting hot!” he complained as he scratched.

“A little late to be shedding isn’t it?” she asked dryly.

“Yeah, well, there was still snow on the ground at Easter, I’ll have you know,” he reminded her grumpily, scratching harder and with more determination.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of watching a giant rabbit groom himself, Lilliana turned her attention back to Jorge. They’d run out of balloons, it seemed, so now Frost was using gentle gusts of wind and rapidly-melting sheets of ice to push the kids across the surface of the pond. Jorge appeared to be having the time of his life, even with that scrawny Jamie brat jabbering incessantly at him.

_I just hope our kid doesn’t talk that much._

Speaking of…

“I suppose I must thank you,” she said suddenly, addressing the Pooka.

“For what?” he asked, straightening up at last.

“For keeping your mouth shut.”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant.

“Yeah, well, it ain’t really my business, is it?” he said, pulling one last stray clump of hair from his body and discarding it without a second glance. “Believe me, Starfire, if I could’ve stayed outta that I would’ve, but I can’t help it.”

“I know.”

And she did. As much as it annoyed her that the rabbit had found out about the baby before she or Pitch did, she couldn’t find fault with him for it as he couldn’t help what his spiritual powers allowed him to do.

“But I ain’t gonna be able to keep it a secret much longer,” he said, meaning the child’s growing presence. Lilliana knew as well as he did that soon enough the other Guardians would be able to sense it, too, whether she liked it or not. “And neither are you,” he added, emerald eyes fixing pointedly upon her growing stomach.

Voice tinged with warning, she inquired of the Pooka, “Are you insinuating something?”

“Oh, no,” he said hastily, waving his paws in the air. “No way. I’m _not_ stepping into that.”

She smothered a smirk as he spluttered and mumbled to himself, struggling to extricate himself from the conversation without causing her insult or aggravation.

_They’re so easy to toy with. No wonder Pitch enjoys it so much._

“Anyway,” he muttered finally, “just keep in mind what I said. Oh, and do you have any preferences for when you wanna take the oath?”

“None at all.”

“All right. We’ll let North pick, then, since we always do it up at the Pole.”

“Why is that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He shrugged. “He’s just better at keeping all those things in order, I guess, the book and what-have-you. Plus he likes officiating.”

“Ah.”

“We’ll let you know,” the Pooka said, rapping his foot against the ground to open up a tunnel. “I’ll have Frost leave a message with the kids. Fair?”

“I suppose,” she said on a sigh. It was better than having somebody show up in Pitch’s realm, at any rate.

With a curt nod, the rabbit dropped down into the tunnel. It sealed up behind him, a little red flower appearing the moment the earth closed over his head.

 _So ridiculous,_ she thought, eyeing the flower with distaste. _“Why do you do that?”_ she asked of the flower, which sang a rather abrupt—and quite rude—response before turning away from her.

She sighed again. That was precisely why she didn’t bother with plants that remained loyal to other spirits. They were always so disrespectful.

With one final glance towards the pond to ensure that Jorge was in good hands, she summoned her vines to carry her home.

Upon arriving in Pitch’s realm, her attention was immediately arrested by two things.

First, when she entered their bedchambers she saw from the smooth bedcovers that Pitch was still awake, which was highly unusual for this time of day.

And second, from the moment she’d first entered their home she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

“Pitch?”

With her senses all-but smothered and no plants available to help her, she couldn’t quite pinpoint who or what was there in the dark with her. The predicament didn’t scare her, for she knew Pitch would never allow any harm to come to her, but she found that unidentifiable presence—and the fact that her love hadn’t come out to greet her—as incredibly suspicious.

“Pitch?” she called again. She checked the former throne room, the library, and even her old room. All empty. She was getting aggravated now. “Pitch!”

With a scream, a black shape suddenly sprung from the darkness. Lilliana startled a bit at the noise, but the moment her eyes swung to the source a broad smile broke out onto her face.

“Ebony!” she cried, patting the Nightmare affectionately as it danced around her. A second mare soon emerged, though slower and with a bit more dignity, and her smile only widened. “Onyx!”

“Boo!”

Lilliana lifted her eyes to the vaulted ceiling before fixing her love with a quizzical look. Sharp teeth flashed as he grinned at her, still half-hidden in the shadow from which he’d suddenly appeared.

“Did you really just try to scare me?”

“Did it work?” he asked playfully, stepping out of the gloom and into full view.

“Of course not.”

He laughed, amused by her reaction. Ebony nuzzled against her, demanding attention, and the flora spirit gave it gladly, scratching at the mare’s mane and ears and rubbing her palm down the black sand of her neck.

“They’re beautiful,” she exclaimed, thrilled in spite of Pitch’s antics. “I didn’t know you were able to reshape them already. How did you gather the power so quickly?”

He shrugged casually. “It wasn’t that difficult.”

Lilliana eyed him with suspicion. “Pitch…”

“What?” he asked innocently. “I kept my word, I didn’t do anything unreasonable. In a city that large, a thousand dreams hardly make a dent!”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Okay, a hundred.”

One eyebrow went up.

He chuckled at the sight of her. “Please, Lilly, it was only a few,” he said reassuringly, wrapping an arm around her to give a gentle squeeze. “I’ve actually been gathering power for a while. I only kept it a secret so it would be a surprise.”

Her expression softened. “That’s wonderful, Pitch.”

“Mmm.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured into her ear.

It was wonderful to have Pitch back to his old self again. Lilliana had truly missed his playfulness these past few weeks, and to see her love finally free of the melancholy that had fettered him was an even better surprise than the Nightmares were.

As they stood in the dark holding each other in affectionate silence, something suddenly interrupted them: a sharp jab in the stomach.

“What was that?” Pitch asked, pulling back instantly to stare down at Lilliana’s slightly swollen belly.

She chuckled at the alarm on his face. “That’s the baby, Pitch. I told you it was going to start moving soon.”

“You did?”

“You must not have been listening,” she said with a sigh. She supposed she should’ve known that, as he hadn’t really given her a response at the time, but decided not to comment on the matter. Instead she reached out to him and took his hand, guiding it to her stomach. “Just wait, you’ll see.”

It took a few minutes, but after a time the child kicked again, right under Pitch’s palm. Golden eyes grew very wide at the incredible (and incredibly strange) sensation.

“But it’s still so small!” he exclaimed.

“It’s a little early,” she admitted, struggling to smother the laugh that bubbled up inside of her upon seeing the expression on his face. “To be honest, I cannot tell you if that’s because it’s a spirit or if our baby’s just a freak.”

He grinned. “Terror,” he corrected, caressing her stomach lovingly. “Definitely a terror.”

“I swear if it takes after you I’m going to be so mad.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “In _that_ case, I hope it does!”

She rolled her eyes with a groan. “Please, one of you is more than enough.”

“You sure about that?” he purred, pulling her close again.

“Yes,” she asserted, trying hard to ignore the way his hands had started to smooth up and down her back, sneaking lower and lower with each gentle stroke.

“Positive?”

“Absolutely.”

“You sure?” he repeated on a whisper, touching his lips to hers before she could answer. 

Their kiss was slow and deep yet incredibly gentle. Lilliana found her free hand snaking around his waist to clutch at his robes and pull him even closer, loving every moment they were together like this.

_You’re my roots and my sky…I love you so very much…_

When the moment finally ended, Pitch lifted his head to stare deep into her eyes. “Come to bed with me?” he murmured, reaching up to stroke his long fingers through her curls.

She sighed contentedly at the incredible care and affection contained within that light touch. With the smallest of nods, she told him, “Of course, Pitch.”

His smile was tender as he pulled her back into the shadows with him, returning them to their bedchambers.


	27. Revelation

It was the first of July, and it was _hot._ Way too hot, especially for Jack’s tastes. He’d have much preferred to head south where it was wintertime, or even to stay up at the Pole with North and wait for the others to arrive, but he’d been sent to Burgess with a very specific task:

To make sure Starfire came for the ceremony.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d been chosen for the job, as North hadn’t given him a definitive answer, but as he had nothing better to do the frost spirit figured he didn’t really have a right to refuse. Besides, out of all the Guardians he was by far on the best terms with Jamie and the other kids, so they could help him find the elusive flora spirit if necessary.

 _Better ask them first,_ he decided, flying off on a gust of wind. He checked Jamie’s house first, then the twins’, and was just about to swing by Pippa’s and Monty’s when he spotted all seven of them playing in the Rollins’ front yard. He grinned at the sight of them, genuinely pleased that they were getting along so well with Jorge. He didn’t know the half of what the kid had been through, for Starfire was extremely protective of him, but he knew enough to understand that it hadn’t been easy for the boy to make friends. That he’d taken so well to Jamie and the others was a true testament to Starfire’s ability.

 _Manny was right…as usual,_ he thought with a bit of a sigh. Shaking his head, he floated over to the Rollins’. A rather impressive tree stood right in the middle of their yard, and Jack landed on a lower branch, appreciative of the shade. He called down from his perch, “Hey, Jamie!”

“Hi Jack!” the boy replied as he and the others all gathered under the tree.

“Seen Starfire anywhere?”

“Not lately.”

He glanced at Jorge, who reported with a shrug, “Haven’t seen her for a couple of days.”

“Hey, are we still going to the ceremony tonight?” Caleb asked.

“Of course we are,” Claude said at once. “We were invited, right?”

“Well Starfire said—”

“Who cares what she said? Jack says we can go so we’re going! I wanna see the North Pole!”

“Shhh!” Pippa hissed, pointedly flicking her gaze to the nearby street.

“Sorry,” Claude apologized in a quieter tone. Caleb snickered, earning himself a shove from his brother.

“Need help finding her?” Jamie inquired of Jack.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” the frost spirit said reassuringly, having noted the look of worry gathering on Jorge’s face. “Just wanted to ask her something about the ceremony is all. It’s not that important.”

“Okay then.”

Jack floated up off the branch. “Later, guys.”

“Later!” a chorus of voices echoed after him as he soared off.

 _Guess I have to go down there after all,_ he thought with a disappointed sigh. He’d have much preferred sitting there in the shade while the kids played (or, heck, finding someplace cold where he could have some fun himself) than to go chasing after the notorious wanderer in the dark labyrinth that was her home. But he didn’t want to let North down, not when the big man was so very excited to have another oath-taking ceremony so soon after Jack’s.

 _Almost too excited,_ he noted, remembering just how enthusiastically North had been directing the yetis before the Guardian of Wonder abruptly shooed him from the workshop.

_If he wanted me out of the way for a couple of hours just to give his worry-wart yetis a break, then he should’ve said so. I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing than this._

Realizing that the heat was making him irritable, Jack shook his head to clear it. He picked up the pace, desperate to get his rather thankless task over with quickly so he could go have some fun before the ceremony.

_I think I hear some Himalayan mountaintops calling my name._

As he crossed over Burgess, though, he suddenly spun an about-face, hardly daring to believe his luck

There was Starfire, sitting on a brown shingled rooftop.

Relieved that he wouldn’t have to risk Pitch’s wrath by entering the former Nightmare King’s realm, Jack dropped from the sky, aborting his rapid descent at the last possible second to land feather-light before the flora spirit.

“Hey Starfire,” he greeted cheerfully.

“What do you want, Frost?”

His smile wilted a bit at her rather cross tone, but he didn’t let it bother him too much. “North just wanted to make sure you knew that the ceremony is tonight.”

“Yes, I am very much aware of that fact.”

“Okay…” Jack said slowly. He didn’t know why, exactly, but something about this picture just didn’t seem right. He frowned as he studied Starfire, who hadn’t so much as glanced at him the whole time he’d been there.

“Is that…cake?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it even though he was watching it with his very own eyes.

Starfire froze with the fork halfway to her mouth. It was the briefest of hesitations, and afterwards she went right on eating as if nothing had happened, but considering how certain the flora spirit usually was in everything she did that tiny pause stood out sharply to the young Guardian.

“So what?” she asked brusquely, pushing another bite of chocolate cake between her lips.

“I thought you didn’t like cake.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you—?”

“Just because I don’t care for sweets, doesn’t mean I never eat them,” she snapped, stabbing angrily at what little remained of her dessert.

Jack stared at her, flabbergasted. He leaned over to look past the eaves down at the front of the building. Upon recognizing the sign displayed over the doorway, he straightened up again to gape at Starfire.

 _She’s not just eating cake, but cake she_ stole _?_

It didn’t make sense to him at all. If she’d wanted cake, why didn’t she just make it herself?

Coupled with her uncharacteristic moodiness (for he was certain he hadn’t done anything lately to possibly aggravate her), Jack couldn’t help but think that something was going on.

“Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely worried for her.

“Of course I am,” she replied flippantly. With the cake finished, she dropped the pilfered plate and fork off the side of the roof without a care for the fact that they clattered loudly on the sidewalk below. “I’m allowed to eat, aren’t I?”

“Well, _yeah_ , but—”

“But what?”

He swallowed hard, not daring to utter a response with her glaring at him like that.

“Nothing,” he said at last. “Just remember to come, okay?”

She waved him off dismissively. “Yes, yes, of course. It’s not like I could hide from you idiots even if I wanted to.”

“Uh-huh.” Jack wasn’t really paying attention anymore. When she’d waved his hand at him, he’d spotted something else that was amiss.

Her shirt. It wasn’t the same shirt she normally wore. It was a different shade of green.

And now that he looked closer, he saw that the white shirt she wore over the green one was different too. Subtly so, but still different.

_What’s going on here?_

“Well, go on then,” she commanded, shooing him off again and picking up her staff. “Fly back to North with your report like a good little boy.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his distracted brain unable to think of anything else to say. He summoned his wind, casting but a single worried glance back at Starfire before shooting off towards the Pole.

* * *

“Ah, Jack!” North cried merrily as the frost spirit landed in the workshop. “News?”

“She’s coming,” he replied honestly. He wasn’t entirely sure yet how to broach the subject of Starfire’s strange behavior without causing the flora spirit undue trouble. North was rather prone to overreact, after all, if only because he tended to do _everything_ in an over-exuberant way.

Missing the conflicted look on the younger Guardian’s face, the big man said, “Good! Bunny’s here already, and Tooth and Sandy come soon. Once moon rises, we hold ceremony!”

“Just don’t make a big deal over it this time,” Bunny cautioned as he hopped into the room. “She really don’t like stuff like that, mate, so keep it simple.”

“Simple enough already,” the big Russian countered with a dismissive wave of one massive hand.

But the Pooka wouldn’t back down.

“I mean it, North, no music this time.”

“And no elves,” Jack added, kicking one of the annoying creatures away as it tried to lick ice off his pants.

“Absolutely nothing that ain’t essential,” Bunny insisted.

North looked startled by the very implication that they should tone the festivities down tonight. “Ceremony been same for hundreds of years! Why change now?”

“You didn’t make a big fuss over _Jack’s_ oath-taking,” the Guardian of Hope pointed out, completely ignoring North’s question.

“And I actually preferred it that way,” the frost spirit added, trying to be helpful. He knew perfectly well that Starfire wasn’t the sort to appreciate a big celebration with torches and music and ridiculous blue shoes. Why North couldn’t understand that was beyond him.

“Just the book,” Bunny concluded in a firm voice, as if that finalized the matter.

But the Russian was almost as stubborn as he was good-natured.

“Ah, Bunny, come now!” he cried merrily. “Where’s fun in that? Must have feast afterward at least!”

Bunny and Jack both groaned and put their faces into their hands.

“Makes good impression, too!” North went on, oblivious to his compatriots’ growing frustrations. He was now striding around the room to check up on his yetis, who were currently making preparations for the ceremony and—if the big man had his way—subsequent ‘feast’. “First time Pitch and Lilliana come in good faith, yes? So! Make it _extra_ special!”

“Please don’t,” Bunny all-but pleaded. Jack almost laughed at the expression on the Pooka’s face, which could only be described as something between desperation and disbelief.

“If you make it too extravagant, they might think you’re picking a fight with them,” he warned as he watched a pair of yetis shuffle by with what could only be described as a giant punch bowl balanced between them.

North waved off the frost spirit’s concerns. “Makes good impression! You’ll see!”

Bunnymund’s patience snapped.

“Now, hold it!” he shouted. Every yeti froze instantly, staring at the Pooka with a mixture of shock and confusion written on their hairy faces. The Guardian of Hope marched over to North and stuck a fuzzy finger right in the big man’s face. “You listen to Jack and me!” he declared in a commanding voice. “We don’t need the _half_ of this, you’re only gonna make things more difficult for everybody!”

Initially startled by Bunny’s sudden outburst, North’s face relaxed as he laughed.

“You worry too much, old friend,” he replied cheerfully, clapping Bunny on the shoulder. A twinkle in his bright blue eyes, he continued with mock suspicion, “Why you care, anyway? Thought you hated Lilliana. Annoying her will make you happy, yes?”

“No it won’t!” Bunny insisted, shaking off North’s hand.

Heaving a weary sigh, Jack left the two of them to their bickering. Now that they’d started, he knew they’d be at it for hours if left to it, and that was exactly what the frost spirit did. He left them to it. His mind, after all, was still focused on what could possibly be going on with Starfire.

He fretted about it for the rest of the afternoon, floating aimlessly through the workshop as the yetis down below either worked on Christmas toys or prepared for the upcoming ceremony (apparently Bunny hadn’t succeeded in convincing North to tone it down, judging from all the decorations and props they were carrying). A part of him wanted to believe that he was being silly, that there wasn’t anything wrong with Starfire and that even if there was she was more than capable of taking care of it herself. ( _She said she was coming, after all, so whatever it is it can’t be_ that _bad, right?)_ But an even larger part of him worried about that, about her and Pitch’s affinity to try and deal with things without help. If something _was_ wrong, it’s not like they’d ever mention it to the Guardians, right?

 _Better safe than sorry, I guess,_ Jack finally decided. It was growing late, and the other Guardians would be arriving soon. _I’ll just bring it up casually, and they’ll either tell me there’s nothing to worry about or they’ll agree with me._

With the decision made, he flew off to go find the others. As luck would have it, just as he was headed down the corridor he ran into none other than Sandman, who’d just dismissed his dream-sand biplane.

“Sandy!” Jack called, and the little yellow man lifted his hand in greeting. Landing on the floor beside him, the frost spirit said, “Hey, Sandy, there’s something I gotta—”

The sound of raised voices cut him off. Exchanging confused glances, the two spirits entered North’s globe room to discover the big man and Bunnymund _still_ arguing. Somewhere along the way, the quarrel had shifted from Starfire and the ceremony to a longstanding debate between the two spirits: whether Easter or Christmas was more important.

Sandy rolled his eyes at the sight of them while Jack just chuckled nervously.

_How am I supposed to bring this up when they’re going at it like—_

“Sydney, sector twelve, bicuspid!”

Heaving a sigh, Jack was not at all surprised to see Tooth entering the room. The fairy, as usual, was chattering away to her assembled assistants without once pausing for breath.

“Lisbon, sector eight, central incisor! Chicago, sector one, upper left canine!”

Most of the little fairies flittered off to gather the teeth, leaving the Guardian of Memories with her usual accompaniment of three.

“Hi!” she exclaimed, darting over to Jack and Sandy. She, too, sighed upon catching sight of Bunny and North. “Really, those two, all year long…” Then she brightened again. “I’m so excited! _Two_ ceremonies in one year?! This never happens, I mean _never_! It’s just so wonderful!”

The fairies hovering over her shoulders twittered in agreement. Jack was a little disappointed to see that Baby Tooth wasn’t among them.

“You mates agree with me, right?” Bunny’s voice called from across the room, prompting all three spirits to turn in unison. North and the Pooka had finally stopped arguing, but only because they were now staring expectantly at the others.

“With what?” Tooth asked. She was still beaming; apparently an argument between friends wasn’t enough to douse her mood.

“That what North said before about Easter being more important than Christmas counts ’til he proves otherwise!”

“Was _months_ ago, Bunny,” North argued.

“Still, it counts! They were there, they’ll agree with me!”

“Jack!” North boomed, making the frost spirit jump. “Which more important? Christmas or Easter?”

“Uh…”

“Don’t ask _him,_ ” Bunny snapped. “It ain’t fair!”

“Why not?”

“’Cause of what happened, you bloody gumby! If he says Easter you’ll just say it’s ’cause he feels bad!”

“All in the past!” The big man denied before breaking out into a broad smile. “Ask Lilliana! _She’ll_ decide for once and all!”

“Aw, come on, mate, don’t ask her!”

“Why not? You say not fair to ask Jack. So! Ask Lilliana. That makes it fair.”

“She’s got enough on her plate as it is!”

Jack felt a pang of guilt when Bunny said that because he _still_ hadn’t gotten around to asking the others about his lingering concerns over Starfire.

“Speaking of Lilliana,” Tooth said into Jack’s ear, startling him, “did you see her?”

“Yeah,” Jack reported. “She says she’s still coming.”

“Good! I’m so glad she agreed to this, it makes things _so_ much better for everybody! Plus,” she added, her smile widening even more, if that were possible, “now we don’t have to worry about Pitch! Isn’t that nice?”

That last part was directed at her fairies, who chittered happily in response. It seemed their relief over no longer being enemies with the former Nightmare King far outweighed any resentment they felt over being captured and held hostage by him.

“There’s something else, though,” Jack said in a rush. Tooth and Sandy both regarded him with warm smiles, waiting for him to speak. “I think…I think there’s something going on with her.”

“Going on with her how?” Tooth asked, not sounding the least bit worried.

“Well, it might be nothing…”

Her smile wavered a bit at Jack’s hesitation. “Is something wrong with her?” she asked, prompting North and Bunny to both shut up simultaneously and swivel their heads around to listen in on the conversation. Jack didn’t know how they’d heard her over their endless quarrelling, but they had.

“Nothing’s _wrong,_ ” Jack said quickly before adding, “at least I don’t think so.”

With four pairs of eyes staring intently at him, reflecting a mixture of curiosity and worry, the frost spirit told them, “Well, first of all she was pretty grumpy…”

Bunny snorted. “When _ain’t_ she,” he muttered, eliciting a warm chuckle from North.

“Well, this was more so than usual. I’d barely said hi when she started snapping at me.”

“She’s probably just stressed,” Tooth offered. “Or tired. It can’t be easy doing her duties and working with Jorge, especially when she’s used to staying up most nights with Pitch. She just hasn’t gotten used to it yet.”

Growing less and less sure of himself, Jack offered the second reason he’d become worried. “And she was wearing different clothes.”

“Oh, Jack,” North said, laughing louder this time. “Spirits don’t dress same _all_ the time!”

“I’m surprised she didn’t get sick of those clothes centuries ago,” Bunny commented.

It was weird hearing the two of them agree when they’d just spent the better part of the day in each other’s faces. Convinced now that he’d been worried over nothing, Jack finished on a mumble, “And she was eating cake.”

The room immediately fell silent, leaving Jack more than a little perplexed.

That _is what they find weird out of all this?!_

“Cake?” Tooth questioned, a frown playing on her naturally pale face.

“Lilliana hates cake,” North said. He, too, was frowning.

Bunny shuffled uncomfortably as Jack reported, “Yeah, I know that. She told be back in Manny’s realm.”

“Where did you say she was again?” Tooth asked.

“She was in Burgess, actually,” Jack told her. “She was sitting on the roof of Mouthwatering Morsels.”

“The bakery?”

“Yeah.”

“She _stole_ cake?” North asked, flabbergasted. Sandy had asked the same question via is silent sand symbols.

“Yeah, she did.” He had to admit, he was feeling a little relieved to know that he wasn’t crazy. Stealing was something the mischievous frost spirit was prone to do, not the spirit of flora, who’d always made a point of avoiding humans as much as physically possible.

_Besides, she can cook, so why didn’t she just make it herself?_

He looked around the room. Bunny still looked extremely uncomfortable for some reason, but even more peculiar was how North and Tooth suddenly looked like they were both struggling to contain themselves.

“Uh, guys, are you oka—?”

“HA!”

Jack literally leapt into the air at North’s unexpected outburst, which was immediately followed by a fit of truly raucous laughter. The big man clapped his hands together as he laughed, wildly pleased over…something.

“This is _wonderful_!” the Guardian of Wonder exclaimed, his booming voice echoing deafeningly around the workshop. “Wonderful, wonderful! _Deystvitel'no zamechatel'nyy_!”

More than a little confused, Jack turned his head to ask, “Uh, guys, what’s he all—?”

He spluttered to a halt as he realized, with no small degree of bewilderment, that Tooth Fairy was actually doing flips in the air. She, too, was laughing, and speaking so very fast it was almost impossible to understand her.

“This is so exciting! I’ve never collected a spirit’s teeth before! Well, except for Pitch’s but that one doesn’t count. Oh my, I actually get to store their memories!” She squealed loudly. Between that ear-splitting noise and North’s endless stream of exuberant Russian, Jack was starting to get a headache. “This is the best year ever! Ohhhh, it’s going to be so _cute_!”

“What is?” Jack asked, wounded by the fact that he was, yet again, the only one in the group that didn’t understand something. Even the little fairies were twittering away, pleased by the news. Whatever it was. He turned to Sandy for help, only to discover the little yellow man giddily waving his hands through the air, an enormous smile plastered onto his pudgy face. “Come on, guys, help me out here.”

At Jack’s plea, Sandy held still just long enough to shape a sand symbol over his head. He pointed at it knowingly, and Jack’s hand flew to his forehead as he immediately got the reference.

“HUH!?!” He stared wildly about the room, taking in everyone’s reactions. “Seriously?!”

“YES!” Tooth cried as she dropped low enough to grab Jack’s hands. She shook them over and over again, and Jack was too shocked by what he’d just understood to possibly try and extricate himself from her grip. “Isn’t it wonderful?!” she asked giddily. Then she froze. “Wait!”

She darted over to Bunny, the only one of the original four Guardians who wasn’t currently overcome with joy. The Pooka actually flinched slightly as the fairy hovered right in front of his face. “Did you know about this?” she asked in a dangerously low voice. When Bunny didn’t immediately respond, she gasped, “You did! You _knew_ and you didn’t tell us!”

“I _couldn’t,_ ” Bunny insisted, taking a step back as Tooth lifted her hands towards him and shook them to mime a strangling. In that moment, Jack was fairly certain the fairy really did want to throttle him. “Manny told me not to, and besides—” He had to pause for a moment to wave off three little fairies, who were twittering angrily at him and trying to prick him with their beaks as punishment. “—it ain’t my business!”

“How’d you find out then?” Jack questioned. He, too, was hurt and a little annoyed by the fact that Bunny had kept a secret from the rest of the group. At his elbow, Sandman crossed his arms and rapped one foot against the polished wood floor, silently demanding an answer.

North was the only one who didn’t pierce the Pooka with an accusing look. He’d finally stopped laughing, only now he was muttering very quietly to himself and flicking his fingers as if counting off in his head.

“Spirit of springtime, remember?” Bunny told Jack. “New beginnings and new life?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How long have you known?” Tooth demanded.

A couple of symbols appeared over Sandy’s head. The little yellow man still looked rather irate.

“No, Sandy, not _that_ long,” Bunny insisted. From what Jack could tell, Sandy had asked if the Pooka had known since they’d first met with Starfire at the Pole. “Even with me these things take time. It’s only been a little while, honest.”

“‘A little while?’” Jack repeated skeptically, one slim eyebrow lifting.

“How long’s ‘a little while?’” Tooth Fairy pressed while her trio of assistants crossed their tiny arms and glared at the accosted Pooka.

“I didn’t sense it at all ’til we were at the Moon Pool.”

“That was more than two months ago!” Jack declared while the Guardian of Memories growled an indignant “Ooohhhh!”

“Trust me, mates, I would’ve much rather not known at all. Having Pitch and Starfire breathing down my neck over this ain’t exactly my idea of a good t—”

“WAIT!”

Bunny and the others all rounded on North, who was staring wide-eyed at them as if he’d suddenly come to a spectacularly shocking conclusion. His massive hands were held aloft, nine large fingers lifted for everyone to see.

“December,” he squeaked. Then a massive smile broke out on his face as he bellowed, “DECEMBER!” The large room echoed with the sound of thunderous footfalls as the Russian literally jumped up and down on the spot, laughing and cheering and very nearly crying with his glee. “ _Khvalit' zvezdy_! SO WONDERFUL!!! Christmas will be WONDERFUL this year!!”

Their resentment towards Bunnymund instantly forgotten, Tooth cheered while Sandy fervently (albeit silently) clapped his hands. Bunny, on the other hand, groaned and put his face in his paws.

“Yet another reason why I didn’t wanna say,” he grumbled, looking positively pained as the Guardian of Wonder rushed off to find some yetis with whom he could share the good news.

“Just think, it could always be worse,” Jack said comfortingly. Then he grinned wickedly as a thought came to him. “You could be the one stuck with a baby!”

The Pooka’s laugh was short and humorless. “Please don’t say anything like that around them,” he cautioned, meaning Pitch and Starfire. “I’d hate to have to pick up your bloody pieces, mate.”


	28. Celebration

“What if we pretend that we forgot about it?”

“Unfortunately they’ve already thought of that. Why do you think North sent that brat Frost to remind me?”

He stifled a groan. “I really don’t want to go,” he muttered, his dark mood reflecting in the ominous shadows gathering on the nearby walls. He knew he sounded petulant, like a spoiled child being forced to do something against its will, but he couldn’t help it. The simple fact of the matter was he _loathed_ the idea of what Lilly was about to do, so much so he’d almost prefer a visit to the Golden Palace over this ridiculous oath-taking ceremony in North’s stupid realm.

“You think that I do?” Lilly asked rhetorically. She shook her head in disgust. “Knowing fat man, he’s undoubtedly gone out of his way to make this ceremony even more garish and absurd than usual in some horrid attempt to impress us. _Particularly_ if Frost opened his mouth about what happened this afternoon.”

Pitch really did groan that time, only it sounded frighteningly similar to a growl. Lilly had told him all about what had happened, how she’d been on her way to visit with that ward of hers to try and convince him to talk his brat friends out of attending the ceremony when she’d been struck by a particularly strong craving for cake. While he inevitably found it amusing that their child could make Lilly desire something so utterly revolting, his smile had wilted once she informed him that young Frost had grown suspicious of her strange behavior. There was no doubt in Pitch’s mind that the frost spirit would inform the others about what he’d observed, and that the five of them would most certainly realize the truth once they gave the matter a little thought.

_They may be idiots, but they’re not completely stupid._

Up until that night he’d harbored a bit of hope that he and Lilly could get through the ceremony without suffering the indignity of having the moronic Guardians learn about the baby, but it seemed they were doomed to weather an overreaction.

_And there’s no guarantee it’ll be a positive reaction, either._

His jaw tightened at the thought. As much as he’d hate dealing with exuberant, celebratory Guardians, Pitch had to admit that he’d much prefer their acceptance over any other option. If even _one_ of those four were to respond with disgust or contempt, he truly didn’t know what he’d do. He honestly didn’t believe he’d be able to suppress his rage if Lilly was treated with any sort of disrespect, especially over the baby.

There was a light touch on his arm. Looking around, Pitch saw Lilly beside him, and from her expression it was clear that she knew what he was thinking.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “If that Pooka didn’t react poorly to the news then I highly doubt the others will. He hated us more than any of them, and is certainly the most conceited of the group.”

Realizing that she was right, Pitch nodded stiffly. “Still,” he grumbled, “if they so much as _hint_ at such a thing…”

“Then you’ll be lucky to get burnt seconds,” she said, coaxing a chuckle from him. Remembering the time, she noted, “We should get going.”

“Hm.”

He still didn’t want to go, and knowing that Lilly didn’t want to go, either, made him even less inclined to attend this horrid ‘celebration’. But he would go because Lilly was going, and he’d be damned if he let her suffer through this indignity alone.

_She’s endured far worse for my sake. If she can last several nights in the Moon Pool for me, I can certainly survive a couple of hours with Moon’s horde._

Oh, he’d go…but if those idiots thought he’d arrive in a festive (or even _pleasant_ ) mood then they were sorely mistaken.

With that thought firmly planted in his mind, Pitch opened a shadow portal. As he and Lilly were about to step through it, though, he had to pause for a moment to wave off the Nightmares, who’d also approached the portal. They cocked their heads at him, confused. Their master never went anywhere outside his realm without at least one of his creations hidden somewhere nearby.

“You’ll only cause trouble,” he informed them, to which they jerked their heads up with snorts of denial. Onyx looked especially agitated; it seemed the mare wasn’t keen on allowing her master to go anywhere unaccompanied after what had happened with the Sun Woman’s servants.

“He means there will be brats there who won’t take kindly to your presence,” Lilly explained, patting Ebony on the neck in an attempt to placate the Nightmare.

The two creatures looked at Pitch, who waved a hand in silent confirmation. They emitted frustrated snorts, but acquiesced, disappearing back into the gloom that was his realm.

Amused by their reaction, Lilly noted with a smile, “They’ll be pouting for hours.”

Pitch snorted. “They’re like brats themselves sometimes. I wonder why I even bother with them.”

From the darkness surrounding them, an ear-splitting shriek permeated the quiet. Apparently Onyx took offense to that statement. Already aggravated by the fact that he was being forced to attend some ridiculous ceremony in fat man’s realm, Pitch snarled back at the unseen mare, and there was nary a peep from the two of them after he did so.

Watching the interaction between master and servant, Lilly’s amusement grew to such heights that she actually threw back her head and laughed. The sound echoed beautifully throughout the empty halls and instantly lifted Pitch’s mood.

“Just look at you,” she giggled. “I can already imagine the sort of arguments you and the child will get into.”

Pitch groaned again. “Why do I get the feeling I will lose every single one?”

Lilly’s fresh wave of laughter was joined by an all-too-familiar giggling. Pitch lifted his eyes to the ceiling in mock suffering as he took her hand. “See what I mean?”

“Don’t look to me for sympathy, you’re the one who wants a terror,” she pointed out with a grin, squeezing his hand tight. He couldn’t help but smile back. How was it that she could always banish even the darkest of his moods? Even if he still couldn’t stand the idea of visiting with the Guardians tonight, he found in that moment that the circumstances didn’t bother him quite so much anymore.

_As long as you’re beside me, I can withstand anything._

That was what he thought, but out loud he uttered instead, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “And honey-talk won’t make me sympathize with you either,” she warned, laughing warmly and pulling him back through the portal before he could reply.

They soon emerged in North’s globe room. The last time Pitch had been there, he’d unintentionally led the Guardians to believe he’d kidnapped Lilly. The time before that had been on Easter night during his exuberant (and rather premature) victory celebration over Moon’s pets. And the time before _that_ was when he’d gone to mock and incite the fat man into gathering the others so he could torment them while Lilly was away.

To appear there now, after all of that, was a truly strange experience for the former Nightmare King.

The shadow portal closed behind them, the magic he’d summoned to create it fading swiftly away. With Lilly still holding his hand, her shoulder occasionally brushing his, Pitch cautiously observed the room. He had to admit, he was rather surprised by what he saw, though he was careful to conceal the emotion behind an expression of overwhelming contempt, complete with the vaguest touch of boredom. He’d expected the place to be alight with torches or candles and decorated with some hideous trappings of North’s, but instead the place looked rather normal. In fact, apart from a long table situated against the far wall that was positively laden with food and drink, the globe room looked exactly as it always did.

_Odd._

Odder still, there were only four of the five Guardians present. Frost was missing, but it only took a moment for Pitch to realize why. Those human brats were at the Pole as well, and by the sound of things Frost appeared to be entertaining them in another room while they waited for the final two attendees to arrive.

From the looks on the original Guardians’ faces, Pitch was left with no doubt whatsoever that they all knew about the baby. And to his great annoyance, with the exception of the Pooka—who looked unspeakably apologetic—the idiots were all beaming. That fluttering fairy was actually biting her lower lip as if it took great effort to hold her tongue, and the fat man…well, for lack of a better term, fat man North looked positively ecstatic. His smile was so broad, in fact, that Pitch actually wondered how it was his head hadn’t already torn in two.

_Oh, great._

An uncomfortable moment of silence hung in the air as the two groups stared at each other. The Guardians were undoubtedly waiting for permission to speak, but now that he had a pretty good idea of what their reactions were going to be, Pitch wanted nothing more than to prolong the quiet for as long as possible.

Lilly, however, resigned herself to the inevitable by uttering on long sigh, “Fine, fine, let’s just get this over with.”

The result was immediate and profound.

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!” the fairy squealed at the absolute top of her lungs, setting Pitch’s ears ringing. She dashed forward to hover right in Lilly’s face as she blabbered, “I’m so happy for you! This is so exciting!”

The rest of her drivel went unheard thanks to North’s booming laughter. The big man strode forward with his arms outstretched as if to embrace the pair, completely oblivious to the look of revulsion that crossed Pitch’s face at the very idea of such a thing.

“WELL DONE, PITCH,” he all-but shouted, clapping one massive hand on the former Nightmare King’s back. The force nearly knocked him to the floor. “AND LILLY! Well done to YOU, too!”

Infuriated beyond words by the fat man’s audacity, Pitch threw all caution to the wind and lifted his hand to smite the Guardian with nightmare sand. Just as he called forth the magic he needed, he was saved from grave error by Lilly squeezing his hand. Hard. He glanced over at her, and though she didn’t meet his gaze thanks to that incessantly-jabbering fairy, he knew from the firm set of her mouth that she knew precisely what he was up to.

Thankfully, none of the Guardians seemed to notice the fleeting threat of violence. North actually took the hand he’d raised and shook it hard enough for Pitch’s shoulder to grow numb. He yanked himself free as the fat man informed him with a beaming smile, “December! Best month of the year, but will be _extra_ special now! _Dva raza chudo, v dva raza bol’she vesel’ya_!”

Her attention immediately grabbed by whatever it was North had just said, Lilly rounded on him in an instant. “You are _not_ to go dropping those ridiculous contraptions on our doorstep!”

“Why not?” he asked jovially. “Every child needs Christmas! Brings wonder and joy! Besides,” he continued, unintentionally cutting Lilly off as she opened her mouth to speak, “must bring birthday gifts too! You tell us date, da?”

Growing more frustrated by the second, Lilly jabbed her staff down onto the floor as she barked, “Absolutely not!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t come unless invited,” the fairy assured her. “We’ll give you plenty of space, honest!”

Pitch jumped as he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, but it turned out to be Sandman nodding his head in agreement. He was always sneaking up on spirits, that annoying yellow man. 

“Starfire!”

Pitch stiffened when he saw Frost entering the room with his passel of human brats, one of whom rushed straight for Lilly. The former Nightmare King actually growled, his upper lip lifting to bare sharp teeth as he watched the beaming brat skid to a halt and start rambling on in Spanish. He didn’t understand one damn bit of the language, and it only made him angrier to be privy to a conversation that made absolutely no sense to him. Then, to make matters even worse, his Lilly actually _laughed_ at something the brat said to her. True, it was a short, dry bark of a laugh, but it was a laugh all the same. Bitter jealousy burned like acid inside of him, and Pitch glared unabashedly as the wretched human continued to act as if he wasn’t there.

 _Look at him_ , he thought scathingly. _He’s absolutely pathetic. He is by far one of the most ridiculous creatures that I have ever—_

Wait, was that his name he just heard?

Yes. Yes it was. Lilly had just spoken his name.

_Wait…_

The brat was looking at him. The human child standing before him was _looking right at him_.

“ _Hola_.” His tone was polite, but carried the vaguest hint of wariness. “I’m Jorge.”

Pitch didn’t reply. He was too dumbfounded by what had just occurred to possibly speak.

 _He’s looking at me… He’s looking at me and he_ spoke _to me…_

As the full implication of those two facts settled into his mind, the former Nightmare King’s heart began to race even as the rest of his body felt as if it had gone suddenly and inexplicably numb.

_He believes…? He believes in me?_

Stunned, Pitch lifted his gaze to stare at the children gathered across the room. None of them had moved from the safety of Frost’s company, but they, too, were looking at him and not through or around him.

_They believe… They believe!_

He could feel it, now, the significant boost of power and strength that accompanied a surge of human belief. True, they didn’t fear him, but to his immense shock Pitch discovered that it didn’t even matter anymore. After all, there had been a time not so very long ago when he would’ve given almost anything to have even one child look at him, yet now there were seven. Seven children who believed in him, and he hadn’t needed to actually _do_ anything.

_Why? Why is it that they believe in me now, when all my efforts over countless centuries never amounted to anything?_

Even as the thought shaped in his mind, Pitch knew what the answer was. Stunned and thrilled and immensely grateful, but wholly unable to put any of those emotions into words, he turned to offer Lilly the widest smile he could possibly give. And when she returned his smile, her beautiful green eyes were alight with warmth.

The wonderfully profound moment was broken by a loud whisper.

“Ewww.”

Pitch snapped his head around just in time to see a stocky brunette slap the boy next to her on the arm while the second girl hissed, “Caleb!”

Another boy, obviously the twin of the first, stuck out his tongue as he pulled a face. “Bleck, kissy faces.”

“Okay, you guys.” It was Frost who spoke that time, looking embarrassed and even a little sheepish as he hastily waved his hands at the gaggle of brats. “Come on, let’s get things going here.”

The kids poured into the globe room, making a great deal of noise as they went. North moved to greet them, his incessantly loud voice booming merrily over the chatter. “Ah, now you’ve seen Pole! You like very much, yes?!”

He was immediately engaged by the twins, who gestured wildly as they described all the different things they’d seen in fat man’s realm. Tooth Fairy flitted over to the stocky girl, who’d called the spirit by name, while the wretched Jamie Bennett (the only one of the group Pitch actually cared enough about to recognize and remember by name), waved Sandman over so he could ask the little yellow man some questions. They were joined within seconds by the brat Jorge, much to Pitch’s disgruntlement. 

_I like you less and less, boy._

A gentle squeeze on his hand drew his attention back to Lilly. Now that they had a moment alone, she took the opportunity to step closer and murmur into his ear, “How does it feel to be remembered?”

He brushed aside an errant curl as he whispered back, “You’ve given me everything I could possibly want. How is it that you haven’t grown tired of me already?”

She laughed, low and wicked, sending a curl of tantalizing heat through his body. “Because you make me feel so good,” she purred, reaching out to caress the skin of his neck with the very tip of her tongue. A shudder ran down the length of his spine, and in that moment Pitch wanted nothing more than to be back at home in their bed with her naked in his arms.

“Come!” North called from somewhere across the room, clapping his massive hands together as he announced, “Let us have ceremony!”

Lilly took a step back, her gaze catching and momentarily holding Pitch’s so she could torture him with a positively sensual smile. He smirked back at her, silently yet clearly declaring ‘Just you wait.’ Yet when they turned in unison to watch the odd assemblage of spirits and humans gather around the globe, their expressions were perfectly impassive, betraying nothing of the incredibly private moment that had just passed between them.

North stood slightly to the forefront, a heavy tome balanced in his massive hands. The other four Guardians took up positions to his left and right, while the children seemed content to just scatter themselves in between wherever there was space. Lilly stepped forward, and though Pitch held onto her hand as long as his reach would allow, in the end he let his fingers slide clear of hers so she could assume her place before North. She stopped beneath the thin crescent of silver moonlight, straight-backed and proud, the white flame of her staff contrasting sharply with the vivid red of her long, curly hair. She looked so regal standing there, so powerful, so stunningly beautiful, and as he watched her boldly face the Guardians, Pitch couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of her.

“Now,” North rumbled, opening the book and flipping idly through the pages to find his place. Once he had it, he adjusted his grip on the tome before reciting formally, “Will you, Lilliana Starfire, vow to watch over the children of the world? To guard them with your life—their hopes, their wishes and their dreams? For they are all that we have, all that we are and all that we will ever be.”

Without a single moment’s pause, his sweet Lilly declared, “I will.”

“Wonderful!” North cried, shocking Pitch so much the former Nightmare King actually staggered back a step. Having never witnessed the oath-taking before, he’d expected something grand and elaborate that would take hours to complete, and yet the fat man was snapping the book closed and stretching out his hands with a broad smile on his ever-reddened cheeks. “Welcome, Lilliana, to the Guardians!”

The brat Jorge clapped his hands while his human friends all cheered. The fairy flew forward to congratulate her, and Frost leaned around the pair to give Pitch a two-fingered salute that, judging from the cheeky smirk on the frost spirit’s face, was clearly intended to be some sort of jest.

_Ohhhh, that Frost!_

“FEAST!” North announced on a shout, and as one the seven brats all dashed over to the table to start loading up their plates. One by one the Guardians followed, even that aggravating Pooka, who had remained uncharacteristically silent and detached throughout the entire evening. Pitch could tell, though, that the rabbit was only holding back in an effort to avoid becoming the subject of ridicule or unfounded accusations over the others finding out about the baby.

Shaking his head at the stupidity of it, Pitch strode forward to wrap his arm around Lilly.

“Quick and painless?” he asked softly, kissing her hair.

“As painless as it could be,” she replied on a weary sigh.

Pitch grinned suddenly. “Do you see what I see?” he whispered, and she turned her head to follow the direction of his gaze. Her attention immediately fell upon North, who was busy dishing out large pieces of chocolate cake.

She growled at him. “You’re horrible.”

He chuckled. “Just trying to be helpful.” His hand glided down to gently caress her belly, and he was struck in that moment by a touch of genuine concern for her welfare. “Do you want anything?”

“Yes,” she said, surprising him. “I want to go to the library.”

Understanding dawned on him almost instantly. White teeth flashed as he smiled. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed into her ear and teleported them out of the globe room. 

Distracted by the food and the children, it was quite a while before any of the Guardians took notice of their departure.

* * *

In the town of Burgess, all was quiet. Due to the late hour, most of its inhabitants slept. Streams of golden dream sand—unseen by many—drifted lazily into the rooms of innocent youths to touch their slumbering heads, calling forth pleasant dreams.

Yet something was amiss. Beneath the façade of normalcy there was a gathering darkness, something unseen, intangible, but most certainly there. Perhaps if one or more of the Guardians had been present, they would have been able to sense it, but as it was they were all rather preoccupied by the festivities taking place in the north.

Inside a white-sided dwelling, one thin tendril of dream sand wavered and vanished. A small child startled awake, shivering under her pink quilt as she tried to figure out what had happened. She hadn’t had a nightmare, or even a bad dream; she would’ve remembered if she had.

But even so, she was scared.

Very scared.

Pushing back the blanket, she slid down the side of her bed ’til her bare toes touched the floor. She tiptoed down the hallway to her brother’s room, careful not to wake their mother, and pushed open the door with a soft creak. Peering into the darkness, she whispered her brother’s name, but the bed was empty. She called a little louder, stepping carefully into the room as if afraid something might leap out at her. She didn’t know why, but her little heart was pounding away inside her chest, banging so hard and so fast against her ribs it was actually starting to hurt. A bit of a whimper escaped her as she called for her brother again, desperate for him to comfort her, to tell her she was being stupid, to insist that nothing was wrong and to just go back to bed.

Anything would be better right now than being alone.

A flicker of movement outside the window caught her eye. A tiny spark of hope flared inside of her at the sight of it, causing her to smile. Maybe her brother was playing a game. Or maybe it was those pretty yellow butterflies she’d seen outside her window on Easter night.

She scampered across the room to her brother’s window and peered out into the night, leaning on the windowsill to get a better view. She looked all around before pressing her face against the warm glass to try and see if anyone was hiding in the grass under the window. Spotting nothing, a bit of a pout touched her mouth.

Then she looked up.

A pair of enormous eyes stared back at her, burning white in the darkness. Below those eyes was a massive mouth, stretched wide into a truly hideous grin that revealed triple rows of jagged teeth. With a sharp rapping of claws the creature pressed its hands against the glass, and her eyes widened further still as she saw just how large those hands were. Each one could easily fit around her head or neck and crush her in an instant. Even as she stared, petrified, that horrible mouth opened wider as the monster leered at her, reveling in her growing terror.

Helpless to do anything else, little Sophie Bennett opened her mouth and let out an ear-splitting shriek.


	29. Alliance

Within days of the oath-taking ceremony, the Guardians’ attention was drawn to Burgess yet again. Sandy was the first to notice that something was amiss, for his yellow sand had mysteriously begun to lose its power. With each passing night he struggled to shape pleasant dreams in that town, and even when he managed to create a few whimsical fantasies he couldn’t stop the children from startling awake without warning or reason. He couldn’t understand it no matter how much he pondered it; the kids weren’t having nightmares, so why were his powers no longer working?

Unable to find the answer alone, he called for Bunnymund and Frost (the two least busy that time of year) to help him determine the cause. Almost as soon as Jack touched down, he could sense that something was very wrong. The air was thick with tension, and there was something else that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was similar to how the town had felt a few months back when Pitch was at the height of his power, but also noticeably different. There was fear there, and the implicit threat of danger, yet it wasn’t the same nightmare-fueled dread that the former Nightmare King had thrived upon.

“It feels…smothered,” he said, cautiously eyeing the darkness around them.

“Yeah,” Bunny quietly agreed, straightening up as his tunnel sealed shut. He glanced down at Sandy. “Any leads, mate?”

Sandy shook his head, looking grim. The Pooka sighed.

“Well let’s take a quick look, see if we can spot anything.”

They split up. Bunny stayed low, using his sensitive ears and nose to his advantage as he searched every shadowy corner and alley. Sandy scoured rooftops and chimneys, sailing on a puffy cloud of yellow sand to help him get a better view. Jack peered through windows, both to check up on the kids and to make certain nothing was lurking inside their rooms. While most appeared to be sleeping relatively well tonight, Jack couldn’t help but notice that, just as Sandy had said, there were significantly fewer dreams than usual dancing about their little heads. And the deeper into town the trio went, the fewer dreams there were and the more restless the kids appeared, regardless of whether they were awake or asleep.

_What the heck is going on?_

Floating outside the window of a little girl who clearly loved owls, a faint twittering caught Jack’s attention. He spotted one of Tooth’s fairies coming towards him, clutching something in her tiny little hands.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaping to the neighboring rooftop in order to meet her. She chirped nervously as she passed him a tiny scrap of paper. Jack recognized Jamie’s messy handwriting immediately.

COME QUICK

He set off at once, flying for the boy’s house as fast as the wind could carry him. As soon as he slipped through the open window, he shouted, “Jamie!”

“Here.”

“Jamie,” the frost spirit gasped, perching lightly atop the boy’s footboard. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, though Jack couldn’t help but notice the grim expression on the kid’s face. “Sorry if I scared you. Her hands were so tiny I couldn’t make the note very long.”

“Oh.” Relieved that the boy wasn’t in any immediate danger, the Guardian of Fun inquired, “So what’s wrong?”

“I’m grounded.”

“Huh?”

“The night we went to the North Pole, Sophie came into my room. She wound up screaming and throwing a fit that woke up mom, and since I wasn’t in bed mom blamed me for scaring her. She thinks I snuck out of the house to pull a mean prank.”

“Didn’t Sophie explain?” Jack asked. A part of him wondered why Jamie thought this was important right now, but instinct kept him rooted to the spot. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this and Sandy’s problem were somehow deeply connected.

“She tried,” Jamie explained on a sigh. “But you know parents. They never believe that you’ve seen a monster.”

Something cold touched Jack’s heart. “A monster?”

“Yeah. Sophie said she saw a monster outside the window. That’s why mom thought I’d scared her.” He climbed out of bed to rifle through the drawer of his nightstand. He handed a piece of white construction paper to the frost spirit. “It’s not very good,” he warned,   
“but it’s better than nothing. It took forever just to get this much out of her…every time I asked about it, she’d start crying and mom would get mad thinking I was teasing her. But I finally convinced her to draw me a picture.”

Jack studied the drawing. It was very crude, done entirely in black crayon, and appeared to depict a skeletal figure with huge claws and far too many teeth.

“Do you know what it is?” Jamie asked.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Has anything else happened lately?”

“No, not here,” Jamie informed him. “But…but I just have this weird feeling, you know? Like something really bad is about to happen.”

Jack nodded solemnly. He knew the feeling; it was that feeling of intense dread that had settled upon him the moment he’d set foot in Burgess. If these kids could all feel it, too, then it might explain why so many of them were having trouble sleeping and, in turn, accepting Sandy’s dreams.

“It’s not _him_ again, is it?”

The question startled Jack from his thoughts. “No,” he said quietly and then again more firmly, “No. I don’t think so. I’ve never seen or heard of Pitch creating something like this. And besides, he wouldn’t put Starfire at risk like that.”

“I thought so, but I just wanted to make sure.”

“Jamie?” A woman’s stern voice called from outside his bedroom door. “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody,” the boy lied. He scrambled for a book on the nightstand and Jack stuffed the drawing into his pocket just as Mrs. Bennett pushed the door open. She stood there eyeing her son suspiciously as he explained in a rush, “I was just reading.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound like she believed him, but as she couldn’t be completely sure that he was lying she didn’t press the matter. “Remember,” she said in a warning tone, “if I catch you on the phone or computer…”

“Then I’m grounded longer, I know. I’m not dumb, mom. I’m already missing a birthday party over this, and I didn’t even do anything,” he finished in a barely-audible grumble.

She nodded and left without another word.

As soon as the coast was clear, Jack said quietly, “Thanks Jamie. We’ll figure out what’s going on, don’t worry. And if you or Sophie see the monster again, don’t hesitate to use the snow globe we gave you.”

“Will do.”

Jack found Bunny and Sandy waiting for him in the schoolyard.

“Anything?” the Pooka asked the moment Jack landed.

“Yeah. Jamie said Sophie saw a monster the night of the ceremony.”

“A monster?”

Jack showed him the drawing. “Know what it is?”

“Sure do,” the Guardian of Hope growled. “That’s a bloody wraith.”

Jack felt his stomach clench painfully. “I thought wraiths don’t show their faces.”

“They don’t normally. They don’t usually venture into human cities, either. The lights bother them.” He gestured at a nearby streetlamp.

“What’s it doing here then?”

“Only one of two reasons and both involve the same spirit.”

Sandy formed a yellow sand image over his head.

Pitch.

For once, Jack found himself wishing he _didn’t_ know what was going on. Wraiths were a truly foul lot. While technically spirits, they were not born or created in the traditional manner (by a more powerful spirit’s hand and will), but were instead forged from a death so horrid and painful and cruel that the human’s soul became corrupted by the very evil that had destroyed their physical body. It took incredibly intense feelings of agony, hatred, greed, vengeance, resentment, or even bloodlust to shape these creatures, and the evil aura they wore like a second skin was potent enough on its own to frighten humans into seeing them. Deceitful and cunning, they were notoriously unpredictable, and were just as prone to attack a spirit without warning as they were to skirt a potential battle in order to save their own neck.

“I’ve never heard of Pitch allying with wraiths before,” he commented.

Bunny snorted. “That’s ’cause he doesn’t. He despises the beasts.” He passed the drawing to Sandy so the little yellow man could take a look. “During the Dark Ages, wraiths were drawn to Europe from all over the world by the terror he rained down upon the humans. They took advantage of him, plain and simple, and he loathes them for it.”

“Is that why this one’s here?” Jack pondered. “Did it sense Pitch’s power surge over Easter and come poking its nose around hoping to feed?” _Like a shark scenting blood._

Bunny’s expression was grim. “Maybe, though it’s a bit late if that’s the case. My bet’s on the other option, though it’s a lot worse.”

“Worse?”

The image of Pitch reformed over Sandy’s head, only this time it was accompanied by a yellow fire-man.

_Oh._

“Pitch hates the wraiths,” the Pooka explained, “but their animosity towards him runs just as deep. My bet’s this one sensed the imbalance when he was nearly destroyed and came to finish the job Sun Woman started.”

Jack swallowed thickly. “So what do we do?”

“If we let one wraith linger too long others are bound to appear, and the ankle biters are already paying the price. We can’t risk any more showing up. Best drive this one out now, or destroy it, before things get out of hand.”

Sandy nodded his agreement. Looking determined, he shaped images of North and Tooth Fairy over his head.

“Right,” Bunny said, understanding Sandy’s meaning at once. “Sandy, you go get Tooth. I’ll fetch North.”

“What about me?” Jack asked. He clutched his staff tight, feeling nervous yet strangely excited at the same time.

“You go talk to Starfire. We’ll need her fire to counter the wraith, and…” He hesitated. “And if Pitch wants to help, that’s up to him, but we don’t need any damn show-ponies making things worse. Make sure he knows that.”

Jack jerked his head in understanding before blasting off on a gust of wind. As he sped along, wincing a bit as the hot July air irritated his skin, it occurred to him that Pitch and Starfire weren’t going to appreciate his unexpected arrival. He cast aside all worry, though, for he knew they would understand once he explained that this was an emergency.

_If we don’t deal with this tonight then it’s only going to become a huge problem for everybody._

Landing just outside the entrance to Pitch’s realm, Jack trotted across the clearing only to stop dead in his tracks.

The hole was open.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jack dropped through the opening. He emerged into the empty great room and called as loudly as he dared, “Pitch? Starfire?”

No answers. Jack soared up onto a high walkway, peering into the shadows around him. “Pitch? Starfire!”

Still nothing. He leapt lightly down the stone path, trying to find a passage or corridor that would take him to another room. He didn’t want to get lost in this labyrinthine realm, but his concern for the two missing spirits was growing more pronounced by the second.

“Pitch!” he hollered. “Starf—!’

“Stop shouting, you’re making my ears ring.”

Jack’s heart nearly flew from his chest in fright. His head whipped around, cricking his neck, and to his immense relief he spotted Starfire emerging from the gloom. He dropped back to the floor and hurried over to her.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked breathlessly.

“I was sleeping.”

Her hair _did_ look more tousled than usual, and she wore a grumpy scowl, so Jack supposed she was telling the truth. She asked him crossly, “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you and Pitch. There’s a wraith in Burgess.”

“We know already.”

“You know?” he asked with a confused frown.

“Of course. You think we wouldn’t be able to sense such a thing?”

He couldn’t help the accusatory note that crept into his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us then?” Children in Burgess were beginning to suffer the repercussions of her inaction, didn’t she know that? Had she forgotten her Guardian’s oath already?

“This is Pitch’s problem, not a matter for the Guardians,” she said matter-of-factly. “Oh, don’t give me that look, Frost. As many lights as there are in that town, there was minimal risk to the brats’ safety. I guarantee you that a battle with this wraith would have endangered them far more than simply allowing the beast a few nights of fun before being on its way.”

“How so?”

“If you Guardians attack the creature and fail to destroy it, then its wounded pride would demand that it return to try again. Only it would be far more vicious in its second attempt, determined to achieve victory at literally any cost.”

Watching her as she said this, Jack realized with no small degree of surprise that she was actually right. He and Bunny and Sandy had been so focused on resolving the immediate problem created by the wraith’s presence, they hadn’t considered the potential repercussions should they fail to destroy it. Though he’d never met a wraith before, Jack had heard enough stories about them to know that they were spiteful, vengeful things that never forgot a grudge. ( _That’s precisely why this wraith’s here, isn’t it—to get back at Pitch for something that occurred centuries ago._ ) So while Bunny’s decision to force the wraith out of Burgess made perfect sense to the Guardians, from Starfire’s perspective doing nothing would have the same desired effect without the added risk of possible failure. After all, if something went terribly wrong during the Guardians’ attack and the wraith got away, there was no stopping it from using the children as pawns in its inevitable pursuit for revenge.

A hot flush crept up the frost spirit’s neck, for he could see now that he’d been all-too-quick to criticize the flora spirit when in actuality she’d been taking the kids’ welfare into great consideration.

“Sorry.” He offered the apology on a mumble, scratching uncomfortably at his snow-white hair.

“Now you know why we didn’t tell you. You’re all so very quick to jump to conclusions.”

He flushed darker.

“Pitch and I had hoped that by ignoring the wraith, it would come to realize that he has completely recovered and is in no mood to entertain pathetic notions of grandeur.” She huffed a little. “But it is stubborn, this one, and quite arrogant. It didn’t take the hint, so Pitch has gone to settle the matter.”

“By himself?!”

“Ebony and Onyx are with him,” she reminded him, sounding so completely unconcerned that it was shocking to Jack. “Believe me, boy, one wraith has little hope of besting my Pitch. Once it realizes that he is still quite powerful, I have no doubt it will go slinking back to—”

She stopped mid-sentence. Before Jack could ask what was wrong, she’d uttered a foul curse and sprinted past him towards the entrance.

“What is it?!” Jack cried in alarm, flying fast to catch up with her. “What’s the matter?!”

Instead of answering him, Starfire dug into her pocket and tossed something to him. He caught it clumsily and stared at it.

It was an acorn, cracked nearly in two, exposing the seed’s inner flesh. Jack didn’t know what it meant, but it was clearly a warning of some kind, and judging by Starfire’s reaction whatever was happening was incredibly serious.

As soon as they were clear of the entrance, Starfire summoned her whirlwind of vines and thorns, which propelled her almost violently towards town. It took all of Jack’s effort to keep up. The wind whistled loudly in his ears, and as they hurtled down empty streets it only took him a few moments to realize they were headed straight for the Rollins’ house.

_Oh no._

The moment the house came into view, Jack spotted dozens of shadowy figures pacing restlessly in the yard. He knew they weren’t wraiths, for they were far too small and looked more like dogs than skeletons, but he couldn’t be sure exactly what they were. All he knew was that Jorge was in danger and something needed to be done about it immediately.

He thrust his staff through the air in a wide arch, blasting the mysterious spirits with ice and snow. His frosty attack melted quickly in the summer heat, minimizing its effect, but nevertheless it proved sufficient enough to draw the creatures’ attention. They spun to face the Guardian, hissing and snarling, then Starfire emerged from her botanical transport and as one the shadowy beings leapt back, spitting furiously in some strange language.

Slamming the butt of her staff into the ground, Starfire declared in a voice that reminded Jack far too much of the Sun Woman, “Shades! You _dare_ defile this land with your presence?!”

A chorus of snarls and growls rose up in response, but Starfire did not give them time to speak their minds.

“This residence bears my protection! Leave it at once!”

Jack couldn’t say if it was obstinacy or arrogance or both that stopped the shades from retreating. Had _he_ been the one issued that command, he knew he would’ve seen it done in all haste, for the flora spirit made an incredibly imposing figure with her glaring eyes and flaring white fire. But the shades refused to budge. They stalked just beyond the edge of the yard, too wary to approach but too stubborn to leave as they’d been ordered. One of them said something to Starfire, and what sounded very much like snickering filled the frost spirit’s ears. He glowered at the shades, furious on the flora spirit’s behalf, but instead of growing angry herself Starfire just smirked at them.

“Do not act so haughty, beasts.” Her words dripped with smug contempt. “If your master held any respect for you, do you honestly think he would have sent you here to die?”

Acid green eyes narrowed as the shades hissed amongst themselves, wondering what she meant by that.

She was more than happy to explain it to them.

“Do you honestly believe you could stir my wrath and avoid retaliation? That is not boldness, it is stupidity!”

The shades snapped and snarled, but Jack could see that a few had begun to stealthily back away.

“I shall not say it again,” Starfire decreed. “Leave! Or wallow in the void!”

Her white flame flared ominously, engulfing the obsidian claw that housed it and casting dark shadows across her face. She truly embodied the Sun Woman, then, and Jack was both awed and a little intimidated by her display of power.

Finally realizing the true depth of their folly, more and more of the shades began to back away. With the utmost reluctance they turned to disappear into the night, opting to flee and live while the choice was still theirs to make.

Relieved but also somewhat disappointed, Jack straightened up with a sigh, returning his staff to rest at his side.

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” he commented, but Starfire wasn’t listening. She’d already disappeared into the house to find Jorge. Jack followed her, and they found the boy asleep in bed, the covers pulled up over his head.

“Shades do not possess the power wraiths do,” Starfire commented as she bent to turn on the bedside lamp. “They can frighten, but not to the same degree, and the effects do not last nearly as long.”

It was true. For even as he watched, Jack saw the boy’s trembling body still as he relaxed, breathing a soft sigh as the sinister effect of the shades’ presence dissipated.

“Are they gonna come back?” Jack questioned of the flora spirit. He leapt lightly over to the window to look outside, but couldn’t see anything untoward.

Her response was curt. “I doubt it.”

“What do you think they were doing here? I don’t see them near any of the other kids’ houses…”

“Exactly.”

“Huh?”

With one final glance at Jorge to assure herself that he was all right, Starfire turned from the bed to meet the frost spirit’s gaze. Her face was set into a scowl.

“Shades are slaves to the wraiths, formed from the corrupted souls of their human victims. They came here tonight because their master ordered them to.”

“But why?”

“Why else? To distract me. The wraith knows of my relationship with Pitch and purposefully targeted my ward to lure me away from their meeting place.”

Jack felt something ice-cold touch his heart, belying the heat of Jorge’s un-air conditioned room. “You mean…?!”

Her upper lip curled as she snarled, “The coward knows it hasn’t a hope of defeating my Pitch, so it intends to use a horde of shade slaves to overwhelm and destroy him.”

* * *

Pitch really wasn’t in the mood to fight tonight, but this damned wraith was getting on his nerves. He couldn’t even enjoy the spikes of fear that inevitably marked the dark creature’s presence, for it only served as an aggravating reminder that those wretched beings were _still_ trying to take advantage of him. Throughout the Dark Ages they’d dogged his every step, gathering like leeches to feast upon the fear that _he_ created though _his_ reign of terror, and now, centuries later, it would appear that they still hadn’t learned their lesson about using him.

 _Let’s see how long this one’s arrogance lasts,_ he thought with a smirk. He knew he was laughably weak compared to how he was back then, but if this pathetic excuse of a spirit believed that this made him vulnerable then it was sorely mistaken. True, it would have its shade slaves, but Pitch had never heard of a wraith having more than a handful of those. He and his Nightmares could easily dispose of them, and unlike Ebony or Onyx those petty creatures couldn’t be reshaped once they were destroyed.

Emerging from the shadows, Pitch stood in the very clearing where he’d almost met his end at the hands of Sun Woman’s servants. He thought it a fitting place, for instead of marking his brush with destruction it would now serve as a reminder to all spirits that he—Pitch Black, the former Nightmare King—was still an opponent not to be trifled with.

_I’ll send the wretched creature straight to the void, then we’ll just see how many dare to disturb me!_

Soon enough, the subject of his wrath appeared from the trees. Its hood was thrown back, revealing its hideous, skeletal face and gleaming white eyes. Pitch knew from experience that wraiths only revealed themselves in this way when issuing a challenge, and the implications of that caused him to growl low in his throat. To refuse to engage in battle now that the disgusting creature had made its intentions clear would be as good as admitting surrender, and he’d be damned if he let this monster think for even a moment that it had claim to anything that rightfully belonged to him.

The wraith’s mouth opened into a wide, leering smile as it approached, revealing triple rows of sharp teeth. A sound like dried, crumpling parchment resonated inside of it, and Pitch knew the foul thing was laughing at him.

“Pitch Black,” it breathed, the words laced with mirth. Its breath hung thick in the hot summer air, filling the clearing with the stench of death and decay. “Spirit of fear and shadow. The Boogeyman. Nightmare King.”

“Wraith,” Pitch replied curtly, purposefully taunting the creature by refusing to acknowledge it by a more specific name or title.

The foul thing didn’t appear insulted, however. Instead it laughed again. “It pleases me that you have finally accepted my challenge. I had begun to worry that you would not do so.”

“You’ve annoyed me into accepting,” Pitch growled. “If you’d possessed any manner of intelligence you would’ve left this place the moment you felt my presence.”

“Yes, you survived the Sun Woman’s smiting. An admirable feat, even I admit. But—” White eyes narrowed as the creature’s horrid smile widened further still. “—you are weak, Pitch Black, weak and vulnerable and useless. Completely. Utterly. Worthless. You cannot possibly comprehend how delighted I am to see you cut so low.”

Shadows loomed high across every tree as Pitch’s eyes blazed with fury, the golden orbs shimmering starkly in the darkness of the clearing. “Does it _look_ like I’m weak?!”

“Oh, yes,” it deadpanned. “I am just _terrified_ of shadows.” Its smirk returned. “I would have been far more impressed if you had called forth your precious Nightmares, but you and I both know why you will not do that.”

For the first time since coming out to meet this creature, Pitch felt a flicker of unease. How did it know about his lack of Nightmares?

Sensing his hesitation, the wraith continued smugly, “I have been watching you, Pitch Black. I know very well what has transpired here. I know Sun Woman almost succeeded in destroying you. I know you survived only because you forged an alliance with Moon, and that in exchange for his aid you agreed to cease your attack on humans forevermore. I know that you only have two of your precious mares left—two tiny ponies from what was once a truly stupendous horde.” A long tongue crept out of that disgusting mouth to lick along jagged teeth. “I even know the reason why Sun Woman sought your demise.”

For a heart-stopping moment, Pitch felt his stomach clench. _Lilly._

“So tell me, Pitch Black,” the wraith whispered silkily, “how is it that you plan on destroying me, hmmm?”

One by one, pairs of glistening green eyes appeared between the trees. Pitch soon lost count of just how many shades there were, and it didn’t take a brilliant mind to realize he was surrounded. His jaw tightened. It was unheard of for a wraith to possess more than a handful of slaves, for humans rarely stumbled upon the tombs or caverns they preferred to inhabit. For this particular monster to control so many, he must’ve spent a considerable amount of time locating and defeating other wraiths so as to acquire their shades.

In his arrogance, the former Nightmare King had walked right into a trap without sparing even a single thought as to why this wraith had become so bold.

With a sharp flick of the wrists, he summoned his scythe, but the wraith only laughed at him.

“Yes, struggle while you can!” it taunted while the shades hissed and chattered in their foul tongue. Then it added blissfully to itself, “I just adore it when they struggle.”

The shades stalked closer, tightening their deadly circle around the former Nightmare King. With defiant screams Ebony and Onyx emerged from his shadow, and Pitch assumed a defensive stance, clutching his scythe tight but making no move to attack. Even with his power, he knew that three against so many would be a hopelessly one-sided fight. But if he dropped into the shadows and fled, the wraith would assume victory and move to take what was his, to say nothing of how emboldened the rest of its kind would become.

His only chance then was that Lilly sensed the danger and came quickly to his aid. Shades couldn’t stand even the faintest of light, so her white fire would prove indispensable in leveling the odds.

“What are you waiting for, Pitch Black?” the wraith asked in its dry, dusty voice, which presently dripped with amusement. “Are you perhaps waiting for someone to come rescue you?” It chuckled low and vile. “No one will help you. No one _wants_ to help you. No one even likes you.”

It was trying to provoke him, but instead of growing angry Pitch wanted to laugh. That stupid monster didn’t understand anything. For a creature that supposedly knew so much, it didn’t know a damn thing about the nature of his and Lilly’s relationship.

The wraith’s next words wiped the smirk right off his face.

“Well, perhaps that sun-child likes you.” It grinned again, enjoying the stunned look on Pitch’s face. “Did you think I did not know? Her stench is all over this town, and all over _you_.” It barked out a laugh, a puff of dust escaping its mouth. “You are a bold one, Pitch Black, to enslave such a spirit. But she could not save you from her mother’s smiting, so what makes you think she can possibly save you from _mine?_ ”

“What did you do?” Pitch growled. He asked again, his voice rising to a shout. “What did you do to Lilly?!”

“Do not worry. I have not harmed your little whore-pet. Unlike you, I am no fool to rile the Sun Woman”

“Yet you are fool enough to rile me!”

Pitch’s head whipped around. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes. There was Lilly, striding through the crowd of shades with as little effort or care as one would expend by walking through an empty field. The slave creatures shrank back from her fire, which had grown so spectacularly large it cast heavy shadows upon her beautiful face, making her appear sinister and vicious. She didn’t stop until she stood at Pitch’s side, her harsh gaze fixed upon the wraith.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

She scoffed at him. “Of course. Who do you think I am?”

_The bravest, most spectacular and absolutely gorgeous woman in the entire world, that’s who._

Clearly surprised by Lilly’s sudden appearance, the wraith studied her for a moment. Then Pitch saw its white eyes slide down to her slightly swollen belly, and its mouth opened wide as it jeered, “You _are_ a bold one, Pitch Black! Impregnating Sun Woman’s precious child? No wonder she struck you down!”

“A failure that still haunts her, I am sure,” Lilly said coolly. “But at least my Pitch was willing to face her wrath in the broad light of day. You are a coward who fears even Moon’s watchful eye!”

Mirth faded from the wraith’s skeletal face as it scowled at her. Glancing up, Pitch realized that Lilly was right. It was a new moon tonight—Moon was blind to what was happening down on Earth. The knowledge brought back some of his earlier confidence. If this wraith feared Moon’s attention then it wasn’t nearly as strong as it pretended to be, no matter how many slave shades it commanded.

Another cloud of dust escaped that fang-filled mouth as the wraith rasped furiously, “Do not mock me whore! Even with your fire you have no chance of besting me!”

Pure rage coursed through his veins. But even as Pitch moved to cut the creature down for his insolence, there was a flash of movement and Frost dropped from the sky, his staff pointed directly at the monster across the clearing. A nonsensical murmuring swept through the shades as the wraith eyed him with suspicion.

“Be gone, Guardian!” it hissed. “You have no business here!”

“Actually I do.”

“When you frighten and feed off of children,” the Pooka’s heavily accented voice resounded as the rabbit strode forward to stand between Lilly and Frost, “it becomes our business.”

“My presence alone scares them, I cannot help that,” the creature argued. “You cannot punish me for what I cannot help!”

“Can’t we?” Frost said coldly.

“Your slaves threatened and attacked a boy in town.”

Those words came from Tooth Fairy, and a large number of slave shades leapt back in surprise as they suddenly realized that she, fat man and Sandman were standing right behind them. Caught between two groups of powerful spirits, the cowards hastily backed away, leaving a large gap in the wall they’d created around Pitch.

The air was thick with tension as the fairy continued in a harsh tone that completely contradicted the fluttering ridiculousness of her wings, “We may not be able to punish you, but we _can_ punish them!”

“What madness is this?” the wraith hissed, its clawed hands clenching in fury. “You dare show your faces here, Guardians?! You have no right to interfere in this!”

“If you wanna challenge Pitch we ain’t gonna stop you,” the rabbit informed it. “That’s between you and him. But your shades have to go…else we’ll make them go.”

“Take the ones you want, then” it spat. “You cannot claim them _all_ responsible!”

“Rule of association, mate. When it comes to a spirit’s assistants—in your case, _slaves_ —the actions of one indicates intent of the others. More than two dozen of your shades purposefully attacked a child in Burgess. That gives us cause to act in the children’s best interests and demand that _all_ of your shades leave.”

“Or be destroyed for defiance,” Frost finished firmly.

“You cannot be serious,” the wraith hissed. In the wake of its shattered confidence, the creature was growing more and more agitated. Its voice rose to a screech. “You _cannot_ be serious! Wherever do you get the gall to challenge _me_?!”

“Probably the same place you found the gall to challenge Pitch,” Lilly commented, much to Pitch’s disbelief.

“Silence, bitch, or I’ll tear that whore-spawn from your bloody corpse!”

“Did you hear that, mates?” Bunnymund asked while Pitch seethed.

“I did,” North rumbled dangerously.

“Sounded like a threat to me.” The corner of Frost’s mouth lifted into a wry smile as he asked the wraith with mock seriousness, “Did you really just threaten a child? In front of the Guardians?”

Pitch couldn’t believe it. And neither, it seemed, could the wraith. Lilly stood there with satisfied smirk on her face, for she had purposefully and effortlessly provoked the creature into threatening her. Now the Guardians would be justified not only in fending off the shades, but their master as well, meaning the creature had no choice but to flee if it had any hope of escaping the situation unscathed.

_Brilliant, Lilly. Absolutely brilliant._

Unfortunately, the wraith wasn’t smart enough to realize that Lilly and the Guardians were giving it the opportunity to withdraw. Infuriated over being denied easy victory, and completely out of excuses, it threw aside all pretenses by shrieking at them, “Defend the whore then! You will all die nonetheless!” Then it screamed a command in that ancient, incomprehensible tongue, and as one the shades attacked.

“Fight well,” Lilly murmured, and before Pitch could respond she let fly with her flames. Several shades leapt clear, screaming in pain as their sensitive eyes burned in the bright burst of light, but four of them weren’t so lucky. They collapsed as white fire consumed them, shrieking and writhing in helpless agony until all that remained of them was a thick black substance that stuck to the ground like tar.

Heavy staff whooshing through the air in an intricate but deadly dance, Lilly called forth her flora. The earth rumbled and shook beneath their feet in response to her power. Thick vines emerged, reaching out like sinister, groping fingers to trip and immobilize shades so she could blast them with fire. Others found their heads effortlessly torn from their bodies, or their eyes gouged out by thorns, or massive coils of bark scooping them up and crushing them into pulp, and all the while not a single one of the wraith’s slaves drew close enough to Lilly to even have a hope of striking her.

 _Fight well,_ was all Pitch dared to think before pushing all worry for her from his mind. He charged forward, clearing a path to the wraith with powerful swings of his scythe. Ebony and Onyx followed close behind, teeth and hooves tearing into any shade that happened to escape their master’s deadly strikes. Over the chorus of death cries, he could hear the tell-tale cracking of Sandman’s whip, the whistling of Bunnymund’s boomerang, the icy bursts of Frost’s wind and snow, and the grunts and shouts from North and Tooth Fairy as the five of them helped Lilly fend off the seemingly endless horde. This was the second time now those idiots had come to their defense, and the need to preserve what little pride he had left was paramount in Pitch’s mind. Driven by frustration and determination and anger, his power fueled by the belief of seven human children, the former Nightmare King cut his way through shade after shade, swiftly gaining ground. In a matter of minutes he was free of the bedlam, and once the last shade standing between him and the wraith was effortlessly struck down, he broke into a run.

Realizing that its horde had failed to stop the Guardians _and_ Pitch, the wraith snarled in fury before gathering its magic. A hood reappeared over its head, concealing its face in dark shadow, and its tattered robes billowed wildly about its body as a rusted black longsword appeared in its clawed hands.

Undeterred by the display of power, Pitch lifted his scythe high over his shoulder and brought it down hard, aiming for the monster’s head. It blocked the blow, sending black sand scattering everywhere, but Pitch was quick to recover. As soon as the scythe was destroyed he used his magic to reshape the sand into a spear, using the shaft to deflect the wraith’s attempted strike before spinning the weapon effortlessly in his hands and stabbing straight for the heart…if the damned thing even had a heart. Unfortunately the wraith was fast on its feet, and while it escaped the intended piercing it lost a good chunk of rotting robe in the process. Snarling in frustration, the former Nightmare King struck again, and when his spear was summarily destroyed by the wraith’s powerful parry, he jumped back, putting a bit of distance between them so he could use his bow to launch a heavy black arrow towards his enemy. The creature dodged, precisely as he’d expected, and in that key moment of distraction Pitch sank into the shadows only to reemerge right behind it, a dagger of nightmare sand clutched in his hand. He stabbed down hard into its back, right between the shoulders, reveling in the sound of withered flesh ripping beneath the blade.

The wraith howled in agony. Its grip on the longsword loosened noticeably, and Pitch seized the opportunity to knock the weapon from its hands before using a miniature sand whip to toss it away into the trees. Infuriated and in pain, the creature tried to claw at Pitch’s face, but the former Nightmare King used his shadows to duck smoothly away. Within moments he reappeared before the monster, scythe in hand, and just as the wraith opened its mouth to spit furious words at him he cleaved the creature’s head from its body. The lifeless corpse instantly transformed into ash and black dust, which blew harmlessly away on the hot summer wind. A few brittle, broken bones were all that remained of it then, and when those dropped to the dirt Pitch ground them under his heel, snarling in dark satisfaction as he heard them crunch and snap.

_You spineless coward! This is the price you pay for threatening my Lilly!_

With their master destroyed, the few shades that remained scattered into the darkness. The Guardians let them go, for they knew that the gutless slaves would never return to haunt Burgess ever again.

Panting from exertion, Pitch lifted his head from what little remained of his enemy to try and locate Lilly, only to see that she was perfectly well and coming straight for him.

“Well done,” she said softly, putting her arm around him. Releasing his scythe, which promptly vanished, Pitch gathered her up into a firm but gentle embrace.

“You too,” he murmured, kissing her cheek and pressing his forehead to hers.

“You all right, Pitch?” a heavily accented voice asked.

“Of course,” Pitch scoffed, casting the Pooka a scathing look over Lilly’s shoulder. “Deceit was the only chance that creature had of besting me, and he failed even at that!”

“You’re welcome,” Lilly said haughtily.

Pitch grinned while the rabbit snorted and Frost chuckled in amusement. It felt so incredibly alien, sharing a laugh with the Guardians, but as much as he still hated them and found them all exceedingly annoying, he had to admit that it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant experience. Just a few months ago he wouldn’t have dared stand out in the open with Lilly like this, and the intense feelings of relief and exuberance that accompanied the newfound sense of freedom effectively wiped clear any resentment that would’ve marred the otherwise perfect moment.

Keeping one arm draped across Lilly’s shoulders, Pitch stepped back so he could scan the battleground with a critical eye. The clearing was positively saturated with the thick, tar-like substance that marked fallen shades and caked with mud thanks to Frost’s melted ice attacks. The young spirit was panting and flushed as a direct consequence of being so active in the summer’s heat, and fat man North had three fresh wounds on one arm where he’d been raked by claws, but apart from that the Guardians appeared completely unharmed. Even the fairy had escaped injury. She flitted over to hover before Lilly, a worried frown playing across her face as she questioned, “Are you all right?” Amethyst eyes glanced meaningfully at her stomach.

“Of course I am.” Flicking her curly red hair, Lilly continued in an indignant mutter, “Really, that wraith, thinking a few shadow slaves could hinder me. Did he think I learned nothing from my centuries dealing with Pitch?”

He smirked, but this time the Guardians didn’t share in his amusement. They looked at each other, confused as to why he reacted that way.


	30. Epilogue-Solstice

After the rather short-lived disruption caused by the wraith, things in Burgess finally calmed down. Thankfully there was no lasting damage from the failed attack on Pitch, and most of the town’s children were none the wiser about what truly happened. In their youthful ignorance, they simply assumed that they’d endured a few restless nights, and were both grateful and relieved when sleep finally came easily to them again. Jamie and his friends were the only ones who knew the truth, thanks to Jack’s recounting, though the frost spirit also made an effort to stop by the Bennett household to assure little Sophie that the monster she saw outside the window wouldn’t be coming back. The girl with the ever-tangled blonde tresses had grinned toothily at him before throwing herself into his arms to give him a great big hug, and in that moment Jack found that he’d never felt more pleased and proud of being a Guardian.

As for the Guardians, they all returned to their normal routines. Frost headed off to the mountains, for while he spoke not a word about it to anyone, the truth of the matter was that his expending so much energy in such a hot climate had done a real number on him. (He wasn’t in any imminent or life-threatening danger, of course, he just needed some time in the coldest, snowiest places he could think of in order to recuperate and regenerate his power.) Besides, while he certainly enjoyed being believed in and having some true friends for the first time in his three-hundred-years as a spirit, the mischievous wanderer really needed some time alone. Sandy and Tooth travelled the world, he shaping dreams and she directing the collection of memory-filled teeth (though after re-experiencing the joy of field work over Easter, it came as no surprise to her compatriots that the fairy occasionally left the Tooth Palace to gather a teeth herself). North and his yetis sequestered themselves in the Pole, working round-the-clock in preparation for Christmas, but word had it that he was as boisterous and jolly as ever. Bunny stayed mostly in his Warren, but news of him venturing out to deal with minor troubles across Australia and the neighboring islands reached his fellow Guardians’ ears. 

Starfire, the newest member of the group, rarely showed face in front of the others. From what little Jack knew, she visited Jorge every once in a while, and had even picked up a few more believers along the way (word-of-mouth amongst kids these days was simply astounding), but apart from performing those duties the flora spirit stayed shut-up in Pitch’s realm. The frost spirit supposed it was only to be expected, considering the natural demands of pregnancy and her instinctive desire to maintain utmost privacy, but even so the world saw less and less of Starfire as summer turned to autumn and eventually became winter.

Jack returned to Burgess with the first snowfall, and enjoyed upon his arrival a truly rambunctious snowball fight with Jamie and the other kids. He enjoyed it so much, in fact, he decided to stick around, and so divided his time between the small town and the Pole. Now that he could come and go from that place as he pleased, the frost spirit had decided to make most of it, exploring every nook and cranny of North’s realm to his heart’s desire. Even better was the splendid chuckle he got to enjoy every time he turned up and saw the look on Phil the yeti’s face. 

_Like he just can’t believe I get a free pass after he spent all those years foiling my plans to sneak in._

While he did pull a few pranks just to rankle the oh-so-serious yetis (especially Phil), he kept them minor and infrequent for North’s sake. Christmas was extremely important to the big man, and after such a disastrous Easter the Guardian of Wonder was treating this particular holiday with the utmost seriousness. Jack didn’t want to spoil things for him, and certainly didn’t want the kids to be disappointed twice in the same year. _Especially not ’cause of me._ That was why, as December twenty-fifth rolled ever-nearer, he eased off on the mischief before ultimately deciding to stay out of the Pole entirely and just hang out in Burgess with the kids. Jamie and the others were beside themselves with excitement, of course, and attacked the frost spirit with questions every time they saw him. Jack answered as many as he dared, but flat-out refused to say what sort of presents they’d each be getting. Every time the question was brought up, he informed them with a playful grin, “Not knowing is half the fun!”

Then, one brisk but sunny afternoon, Jack was floating aimlessly over the treetops when something highly unusual caught his attention.

Pitch. To the young Guardian’s utter disbelief, the spirit of fear and shadow was outside, in broad daylight, pacing restlessly in the snow. Frowning with a mixture of confusion and concern, Jack flew down to see what the trouble was about.

“Are you okay?” he asked the moment he landed.

“Oh, _he’s_ fine,” an extremely grumpy Bunny reported. Jack looked around with surprise and spotted the Pooka huddled under a nearby tree, furry arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he shivered with cold. He looked so very frustrated and annoyed, almost angry, that the frost spirit stared.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

“None of your damn business!” Pitch snarled, but he didn’t so much as glance at Jack. Golden eyes remained fixed upon the entrance to his realm as he stalked back and forth like a caged animal, his lips pulled back in a silent snarl. There was a deep trench cut into the snow, and his robes were soaked through to the knees, so he must’ve been at it for quite some time already. Yet the dark spirit didn’t seem at all aware of either the wet or the cold, quite unlike the grouchy Bunny.

“What’s going on?” Jack repeated quietly. Such was the former Nightmare King’s state of distraction he didn’t even hear the frost spirit despite being only a few feet from him.

“What do you think?” the Pooka snapped. “Obviously it’s Starfire.”

Jack blinked, then his eyes widened with understanding. “Really?!”

“Yes, really!”

Raw excitement coursed through him, causing a fresh sheet of thin, transparent ice to spread across the snow-covered ground around his feet. Finally! While North and Tooth had been the real worrywarts when it came to the baby, as the weeks continued to pass without a word from either Pitch or Starfire, Jack had also started to wonder if everything was going to be okay. Now that the time had finally come, it was all the frost spirit could do to smother the instinct that demanded he leap into the air with joy. (Really the only thing that stopped him was the thought of how negatively Bunny and Pitch would react if he indulged that urge, as neither of them seemed to be in a celebratory mood.) Instead he busied himself with checking his mental calendar, and realized that it was the twenty-first. He grinned broadly.

December twenty-first was the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the entire year. _How very fitting._ His grin widened. _Sun Woman’s gonna be pissed._

His frown returned as he was arrested by confusion again.

“Wait…so why are you guys out here?” Watching Bunny shake and shiver in the snow, Jack amended the question. “Why are _you_ even here?”

The venom in the Pooka’s voice shocked him. “Because this bloody shadow-skulking pig-headed gumby was causing problems, so naturally _I_ was the one who got stuck dealing with him!”

“It’s hurting her!” Pitch spat, as if that statement alone was enough to excuse him from whatever it was he’d done to get himself thrown out of his own realm. Still pacing ceaselessly, he repeated harshly, “It’s hurting my Lilly!”

“It’s _going_ to hurt, you bloody dipstick! That’s just the nature of things!”

Studying the former Nightmare King, Jack saw that beneath the obvious anger and frustration, Pitch was actually extremely worried. His eyes were wide in spite of the bright sunlight (which the frost spirit knew _had_ to be bothering him), and there was a clear note of anxiety underlying those antagonistic words. Gray hands clenched and unclenched as if itching to do something, anything, and it was clear that he was struggling with the urge to leap back down the hole and return to Starfire’s side. He snarled wordlessly in response to Bunny’s blunt reminder, and with that the Pooka lost patience.

“That’s it!” he growled, and before Jack could blink, Pitch had plunged into an open tunnel. Bunny dove in after him, and the frost spirit quickly followed, sniggering at the sound of Pitch shouting in anger and shock and pain as he tumbled helplessly (and really quite inelegantly) all the way to the Warren.

The former Nightmare King landed with a hard thud, flat on his face. In the time it took Bunny and Jack to emerge from the tunnel, he had already recovered somewhat and was climbing shakily to his feet. He looked more than a little deranged, what with his hair falling haphazardly across his face, his robes completely disheveled, and golden eyes blazing with what could only be described as pure, unadulterated fury. His words were barely comprehensible as he spat, “You _dare_ do this to me, Pooka!”

“Maybe now you’ve got some bloody sense knocked into you,” the Guardian retorted, completely unfazed by the other spirit’s crazed appearance. Then he barked, “Now listen up! I’m only putting up with this nonsense ’cause the Eileithyiae asked me to! If it weren’t for them, I’d have left you in the snow to freeze and make an ass outta yourself!”

Jack sucked his lips into his mouth, scarcely able to believe that anyone, let alone the Guardian of Hope, would dare speak to Pitch Black that way. Even more surprising was how the former Nightmare King just stood there taking it. His chest heaved with each harsh breath as the Pooka continued to shamelessly berate him, his accent growing noticeably thicker in his anger.

“These things take time, you bloody gumby, and _yes_ it’s gonna hurt! It ain’t the kid’s fault, and throwing a wobbly ain’t gonna make things better for anybody. Starfire obviously knew it, and that’s why she didn’t say a word against them putting you out, ain’t it?” Pitch didn’t even attempt to answer, not that Bunny gave him the chance to do so. “Now you’ll stay here, where it’s _warm,_ until they call you back. I’ll put up with you long as you’re agreeable, but if you keep on earbashing I’m gonna kick you into one of my dye pools!”

Jack couldn’t help it. He tried to smother the laugh, he really did, but the image of Pitch head-first in a dye pool only to emerge covered in pastel-colored paint was just too good. He snorted loudly, prompting both Pitch and Bunnymund to glare at him.

“Sorry,” he said at once, lifting his hands in a gesture of apology. “Honest.”

Cutting the frost spirit with a warning look, the Pooka turned back to Pitch. “I ain’t gonna say it again. Be _patient_ , and for Moon’s sake, please keep quiet!”

* * *

Pitch had never been one to worry about time. What did it matter to him what day or month or year it was, when each and every one was practically the same? There would always be humans, there would always be fear and darkness, and there would always be Moon and his moronic Guardians. So if those facts remained constant each and every night, then what did time really matter to a spirit like him?

Now, though, time meant _everything_ to him. Each and every second dragged by like an agonizing age, leaving him fit to burst from a toxic mixture of impatience and anxiety. A single day had never lasted so long before! And today was the solstice, the shortest day of the year! _Why_ did time suddenly slow to a near-stop when he needed it to go faster?!

_That damned Sun Woman must be toying with me!_

It had to be true…why else would that blasted star hang in the sky for so long? She had to be using her incredible power to slow time so as to relish in his torment.

Pitch squeezed his eyes shut, lifting his face to the Warren’s high botanical ceiling as he continued to pace restlessly. His hands clenched and unclenched, and he chewed on his lower lip until it cracked and bled. (Strangely enough, the mild taste of his own blood actually calmed him on some level, though he couldn’t really explain why.) He’d never felt so useless! Lilly was in pain—he _knew_ she was in pain, had seen for himself the lines of agony etched onto her beautiful face before the Eileithyiae ordered him out—but he couldn’t do a thing to stop it!

 _And now time is moving so slowly,_ he silently lamented. _Why can’t it hurry up so Lilly won’t have to suffer so long?!_

For what was probably the thousandth time, he cast a worried glance down one of the dark egg tunnels. That way lay his realm, his home, his Lilly, but no matter how much he longed to sink into the shadows and fly back to them, he knew that he couldn’t. The Eileithyiae had threatened to leave if he did not let them be, and he couldn’t risk an early return if it meant they would take his actions as defiance and abandon his Lilly when she was most in need of their wisdom and experience.

Just thinking about what had happened made Pitch grind his teeth in frustration. As much as he’d wanted to cleave their heads for such insolence, he’d acquiesced to their demands, because somewhere deep down where a flicker of reason still existed he knew that they were right. His turbulent emotions at the sight of Lilly’s pain were causing him to overreact, and an irrational husband was the last thing she or the Eileithyiae needed to contend with right now. The Pooka was right, too, damn his stupid fuzzy head! Pitch knew fully well that the child couldn’t help hurting Lilly, it was just the way things were, but that didn’t make him feel any less agitated over it. Knowing she was in pain and being wholly unable to do anything about it was driving him to near madness.

 _If this was anything close to how Lilly felt when I was in the Moon Pool then I understand now why she fears to relive such a thing,_ he thought, though of course such cognizance did nothing to soothe his fraying patience.

Breaking eye contact with the egg tunnel for the first time in what felt like hours (though it was probably only a few minutes), Pitch cast a stealthy glance over at the Guardians. Frost and the rabbit were leaning against a tree, quietly chatting. He seethed at the sight of them. How could they act so nonchalant about this?! Lilly was a Guardian, too, didn’t they care that she was suffering?! He was sorely tempted to march over there and punch some sense into them, but held back only by sheer strength of will. He wouldn’t put it past that damned Pooka to make good on his threat to push him into a dye pool, and that horrid Frost would probably find some sick enjoyment in helping him do it.

_Damn that Frost!_

Pitch spun abruptly on the spot when he caught wind of an all-too familiar whickering. His fists clenched tightly as he shouted at Onyx, “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you to stay with Lilly!”

The Nightmare shook her head, tossing black mane everywhere as she answered him. But he didn’t like what she had to say.

“What are you insinuating?! That I can’t stay calm?! I was perfectly calm until you disobeyed me!”

He continued to belittle and berate the mare for several minutes, until something ice-cold hit him hard in the back of the head.

“Cool it, Pitch,” Frost warned, tossing another snowball lightly in his hand. “As much as I would _love_ to see you get a makeover, I don’t think Starfire would appreciate you coming back tie-dyed.”

Pitch saw the dangerous look in the rabbit’s eye, recognized he was on borrowed time, and quickly shut his mouth. Still, he made a point of stabbing the infuriating mare with one final, searing look. But rather than react with repentance or fear, Onyx took the opportunity to calmly report that Lilly had been the one who’d asked her to stay with Pitch. The former Nightmare King startled at that, for it had never occurred to him that Lilly would have even a moment during her ordeal to spare him a passing thought, let alone worry about him.

“Who do you take orders from, her or me?” he grumbled, but reached out to stroke the Nightmare’s mane. She didn’t reject the affection, so he knew she forgave him his earlier outburst. His mares knew just as well as Lilly did that he had a horrible tendency to overreact.

 _‘Lacking in self-control’, huh,_ he thought miserably as he patted Onyx on the neck. _I suppose some things never will change._

The hours continued to slowly creep by. The sun eventually set, and with the darkness, of course, came that meddlesome Moon. He shone down upon the Warren with an intensity Pitch rarely saw from his old friend, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the annoying moon spirit was trying to be supportive or intrusive by doing so. He strongly suspected the latter.

_He just has to have his nose in everything, doesn’t he?_

Just before midnight, when Pitch was starting to think that he would surely burst from overwhelming impatience, Ebony appeared out of the gloomy egg tunnel. Pitch immediately rounded on her.

“Well?!”

The mare delivered her message, and with it came a cleansing wave of intense relief. It was over. _Finally_ it was over! Their child was born, Lilly was safe, and the Eileithyiae had bid him return to his realm.

_Thank darkness!_

Unfortunately, riding hard and fast behind that blessed feeling was a surge of anxiety so great it nauseated him. An inexplicable numbness consumed his entire body, rendering him completely incapable of movement. He’d just spent the past eleven hours longing to rush home, but now that the time had finally come for him to do so he suddenly felt as if his legs were filled with lead, permanently rooting him to the spot.

_Calm down, imbecile, it isn’t that difficult to move your own damn legs!_

His mental self-scolding did nothing to ease the weight of his body, though, and even less to quell the incessant churning of his stomach. It was clear, even to him, that he was panicking. It was finally hitting him that this wasn’t a simple matter of just going home to Lilly as if nothing had happened; after tonight, after this moment in time, his existence was never going to be the same.

And he honestly didn’t know if he was ready.

Something touched his shoulder, startling him tremendously, but it was only that blasted Pooka.

“Easy, Pitch,” the rabbit said in a strangely soothing voice. He even _smiled_ at him. “It ain’t gonna be that bad, trust me.”

Pitch’s lip curled into a sneer. “As if you would know.”

“Aw, go on, Pitch,” Frost encouraged. There was a huge grin plastered on his stupid pale face, though the former Nightmare King couldn’t imagine why. “Kids are great, you’ll see!”

“Best not keep Starfire waiting,” the rabbit advised, and when Pitch still didn’t move the Guardian of Hope leaned back to kick him square in the ass. Pitch stumbled forward a few steps before turning to glare at the Pooka, but far from appearing repentant the damned animal just grinned and gestured nonchalantly, as if shooing him off.

With every ounce of abhorrence he possessed, Pitch hissed, “I hate every last one of you!” For some reason his conviction just made the two idiotic Guardians’ smiles broaden.

_Morons._

Still, in spite of his furious indignity, the Pooka’s kick _did_ get his body functioning again. With a shuddering breath to calm his racing heart, Pitch sank into the shadows and returned to his realm. He went straight for their bedchambers, emerging without flair to stand quietly in the open doorway.

Lilly was propped up in bed, resting against a large stack of pillows. Her head was tipped back, her eyes closed as if sleeping, but as he hesitated in the doorway she sensed his presence. Meeting his golden gaze, she gave him a weary but triumphant smile which collapsed all-too-quickly into a dark scowl.

“I hate you.”

His laugh sounded more like a quiet gasp of air. When had he held his breath?

“Did it hurt that much?” A faint smile toyed with the edges of his mouth, contradicting the genuine concern in his voice. He knew she didn’t truly mean those harsh words, and he wondered at her ability to make him laugh in even the tensest of situations.

“Actually, it did,” she informed him, though it sounded, quite strangely, as if he’d only just reminded her of that fact. “But that’s not why I’m mad.”

The crooked smile faded from his gray face. “What’s the matter?”

He couldn’t have been more surprised when his Lilly declared, “She looks nothing like me!”

Pitch’s grin returned in full force, and he couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of him. _She._ It felt like he was soaring.

“Well, obviously _she_ didn’t get everything from me,” he quietly pointed out as he crossed the room to the bed.

Lilly snorted. “Obviously you don’t know anything about genetics.”

He hummed in amusement. “Hmm.”

“Well, you said you wanted a terror,” she went on as he slipped out of his shoes. “At least this way I can deny all responsibility when she inevitably takes after you and drives spirits to madness.”

He chuckled deep in his chest as he climbed with utmost care onto the bed to settle beside her. Leaning back against her pile of pillows, he stared down at the quiet bundle in her arms. He couldn’t see much of their daughter, swaddled as she was, but it was still more than apparent to him that Lilly was right. Their daughter looked nothing like her. Her skin was gray like his, but several shades darker, and her surprisingly abundant mass of hair was jet black. He thought she was absolutely beautiful anyway.

“There you are,” he said softly, reaching out with one long finger to playfully tug at a curl that was poking out from under their child’s dark purple cap.

Lilly grumbled, “I know she did it just to spite me.”

Pitch didn’t respond. He was too awed in that moment to possibly speak. They sat in silence for a long time, both of them staring appreciatively down at the baby. After a while, he tilted his head to rest against Lilly’s shoulder and murmured to her, “I love you.”

She smiled back, but instead of echoing his sentiment she told him quietly, “Here,” and shifted her arms to lift their baby towards him. Pitch pulled back a little, hesitant to touch such a fragile bundle. ( _What if I hurt her? What if I do something wrong? What if I drop her? What if I—?)_ Undeterred by any lingering misgivings, Lilly continued to move until she had successfully tucked their child into his arms.

Pitch felt stiff and awkward holding their child, the first child he’d ever held in his arms (or, hell, even touched in a benign manner), but he soon relaxed as he grew familiar with her soft weight. Looking down at her tiny, delicate face, he felt the same overwhelming protectiveness that he felt towards Lilly, and knew in that moment that he would never, _ever_ allow anyone or anything to ever harm her.

_I may not be the best father, or even the nicest one, but I promise you I’ll do everything within my power to keep you safe._

The sleeping child stirred, and Pitch held his breath as those tiny eyelids fluttered open, revealing beautiful olive green eyes.

_Olive…the perfect blend of green and gold._

A warm smile touched his mouth. His daughter stirred again, and to both his great astonishment and tremendous excitement, her lips pulled back until she was beaming gummily at him.

_Perfect._

“I suppose we ought to name it,” he told Lilly with mock gravity, as if tremendously reluctant to actually do so.

She didn’t fail to pick up on his tone and willingly played along. “Ah, yes, I suppose we should. Can’t train it properly without giving it a name, can we?”

Their child wiggled within her swaddling, her face scrunching comically as she cooed.

“Did you find that funny?” Pitch asked, reaching out to tickle her lightly under the chin. _Her skin is so soft!_ “Hmm, I can already see that we’re going to get along splendidly.”

“I knew it—my life’s going to be hell,” Lilly lamented, coaxing another quiet laugh from him.

“You know you’ll love it,” he assured her, resting his head on her shoulder once more without taking his eyes off their daughter’s perfect face.

“You get all the fun even though I did all the work,” she grumbled, refusing to let it go. “All the pain…”

He looked up at her.

“All those sleepless nights …”

He frowned.

“The agonizing hours of labor…”

“All right, all right,” he cut in before she made him listen to any more. He knew precisely what she was doing, and so he asked on a long sigh, “What name have you picked?”

She smirked at him. “Don’t be that way, it isn’t so bad.”

“What is it?” he repeated, resigning himself to like it even if it was something he hated. He knew Lilly would never saddle their daughter with a horrendous name, but he also knew just how stubborn his precious love could be. Whatever name she’d picked was clearly one she’d set her mind to, which meant it would be next to impossible for him to convince her to change it no matter how much he protested.

Her smirk softened into a genuine smile. “I was just thinking…” She paused, dragging out the moment, and Pitch found himself waiting with baited breath. “…that Layla might be a good name. Layla Black.”

Pitch’s head lifted off her shoulder as he gaped at her. “You…you’d name her after me?”

“You and I are bound, Pitch. Your name is just as good as mine.” She leaned forward to press a tender kiss to his sagging jaw. “Besides,” she continued in a whisper, “the moment other spirits hear her name, they will immediately recount the legend of the bold and fearsome Nightmare King.”

He closed his mouth so he could swallow the lump that had appeared inside his throat. Then it was his turn to lean forward so he could press his forehead against hers, one hand reaching up to caress her face before trailing tenderly, reverently, down her left arm. He was so overwhelmed with emotion, for a long moment he couldn’t think of anything to say. And when he finally did think of something, it had nothing to do with all the powerful feelings he possessed for his beautiful Lilly.

“She doesn’t look like a Starfire anyway,” he murmured, and the corner of his mouth lifted a bit when she sniggered.

“The one good thing about her not taking after me will be the look on my mother’s face when she realizes her precious bloodline isn’t nearly as strong as she believes. Only two generations and it’s practically dried up.”

He shook with silent laughter, for he too could imagine the look of abject horror on Sun Woman’s face. He kissed his Lilly lovingly before bending down to gently brush his lips against his daughter’s smooth forehead. Then, as Lilly ran her fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes and leaned back against her, tilting his face so he could nuzzle into her thick red curls.

 _This is all I ever wanted,_ he thought. _Respect and acceptance…love and warmth and comfort... No throne could ever compare to this._

Feeling their daughter wiggle sleepily in his arms, he smiled warmly against Lilly’s neck. _Now I have more family to love._ He gave the baby a gentle squeeze, and she settled almost at once, a tiny squeak of a yawn escaping her. He thought it was absolutely adorable.

“I love you,” he breathed, and this time Lilly responded with all the warmth she held within her heart.

“I love you too, Pitch.”


End file.
